


Eye For an Eye

by AmbrosiaRush



Series: Renko's Series [2]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Crime, F/M, Gen, Mystery, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbrosiaRush/pseuds/AmbrosiaRush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Renko and his team get a case of stolen intelligence and a dead body they think it's routine, until they find out it's personnel files that have been stolen. More specifically Renko and Callen's personnel files.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally wrote this a while ago, editing and updating on FF.net, as well as posting here.   
> Thank you to JET1967 for proofreading :)  
> The events of Blood and Bone (currently only on my fanfiction account) lead Mike to be promoted. It's not a necessary read, just a heads up.

Mike Renko was happy to be back to work. Sitting around after being shot by a sniper wasn't going to make the highlight reel of his life. The office for his team was located on the second floor in a secluded area and through a maze of hallways. It wasn't a place stumbled upon. You only went there when you had a purpose. He liked that it was off the beaten path and away from most of the noise of the office. He had a hard enough time as it was keeping his eyes on paperwork. Given any distraction he'd never get any of it done.

As he walked down the hall, the large room came into view. He could only see Ryan Cooper on his laptop from this angle, probably going through his emails like he did every morning when he got to work.

Renko stepped across the threshold. He started to say 'good morning', but the words died on his lips when a loud bang went off to his right. He jumped and moved quickly away from the sound. Confetti floated down, along with what he was sure was glitter. Ryan was howling with laughter at his desk; his partner, Noah Faraday, was trying to keep a straight face and failing. Callen and his team, who had hid from view against the wall, were all in hysterics.

He looked over at his partner, Angela Mercer. Even her usual serious expression had a slight upturn of lips to it. "No warning?" he asked her, a bit of anger seeping into his voice.

"I heard it was revenge," she said with a casual shrug of her shoulders. The smile on her face turned slightly mischievous. "I have nothing against a little retribution."

"Payback is a bitch," Callen told him with a smile before clapping a hand on Renko's shoulder. Callen's face became sombre. "I'm glad to see you back, Mike."

"I'm glad to be back." Renko glanced down at himself. "Glitter? Was that really necessary? It never comes off!"

"You put it in the one you got us with," Kensi replied with a wicked grin, her hands on her hips as she finally stood upright but her sides ached from the bout of laughter.

"Yeah, but you guys were coming back from vacation; you were going home for the night," Renko defended himself as he tried to brush some of the paper and glitter concoction off his shirt. "I got shot. I have to work all day dusted with this crap."

"Think about that next time you want to set off a confetti bomb," Sam said wisely but softened the words with a smile. "Welcome back."

Deeks just shot a grin and a nod as Callen's team left.

Angela dusted some of the confetti and glitter off her desk. "You look ridiculous," she said informatively.

"Really," he replied dryly. "I'd never have guessed."

"Welcome back," Cooper finally got around to saying now that he'd stopped laughing.

"You feeling okay?" Noah asked worriedly.

"Thanks, and, yeah, Noah, I'm fine." He threw down his bag at his desk and sat back down just as Kimi, their Operational Technician, ran in. He stood back up. "Let me guess. We have a case?"

Kimi hugged him gently as if afraid to wound him. She looked up, smiled and stepped back. "Welcome back, Agent Renko." She then addressed the team with a big grin. "Taste the rainbow!"

"Excuse me?" Cooper looked perplexed. She punched a few keys on her tablet, and her work came up on the screen mounted on the wall. There was a dead marine surrounded by what looked to be Skittles. Cooper laughed. "Taste the rainbow indeed. COD?"

"Blunt force trauma," Kimi sang. She liked to keep the telling of information interesting. "Back of the head, brain soup."

"Lovely," Angela said dryly.

"This morning someone discovered that his access badge had been used to get into a filing room with classified intelligence," Kimi informed them.

"Let me guess," Noah said, his eyes going to the petite technical operator. "He was already dead?"

"Yup!" To Renko, Kimi seemed to be pure joy and energy shoved into a human being. He found working with her to be a delight. "So, we need to find out who took the access badge. I've been in constant contact with the base, but so far they haven't found out what was taken."

"Could they venture a guess?" Cooper asked, pushing back some of his dark unruly hair.

"Everything in there is of high clearance," Kimi replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "So anything is dangerous."

"Alright," Renko said, rubbing his hands together as he leaned back against his desk. He was still new to the entire 'being in charge' thing. He had been a solo agent, an 'on the fly' agent shoved into whatever team happened to need him that week, so having regular hours, staying with the same team, and having been promoted to Special Agent-In-Charge was quite the shift. "Faraday, Cooper, you two go taste the rainbow."

"Yay, candy and a dead body," Cooper responded with dry enthusiasm as he grabbed his black leather jacket off the back of his chair. "Can't wait."

"Ange and I will go to the base," Renko said, looking over at his partner. "We'll see if anyone around has seen anything."

::

Angela looked at the grey four-door BMW and froze. The car belonged to Renko. He had noted that she alternated between driving three different cars to work, for what he figured were security reasons. He knew she owned a fixed up glossy black old school Chevy Nova with a red pin stripe down the sides, a white Cadillac CTS Coupe, and a grey Lexus LS. He never asked how she could afford three cars, and she never spoke about the constant switching between them.

He tossed her the keys. She snapped out of the trance and caught them, probably more out of instinct and training than anything. "Are you okay?" he asked, eyeing his partner curiously.

"Fine," she responded briefly.

"Are you going to get in?" He asked, studying her from over the hood.

She remained silent for a few seconds. "Your mechanic did a fantastic job," she finally said as her hand went over the hood where the second bullet had pierced. Her eyes went to the window, through it to the passenger seat where the first round of sniper fire had gone into his chest.

There were no traces of blood in the car, and he figured she was looking for any remainder of the past violence. "We have mechanics on site," Renko responded, studying her face. She had blanched of colour, emotions swept away. She kind of looked like she was going to pass out. "Hey!" he called out and then walked around the car, grabbing her arm.

She jerked her arm away, swung around, ducking low, and her leg knocked both of his out from beneath him. He landed hard on the floor of the parking garage that was a five-minute walk from the office. Breath abandoned his body.

"Renko?" She leaned over him, her steel grey eyes holding a sliver of guilt. "Sorry." She grabbed his arm and hauled him back upright before he could even catch his breath. "You shouldn't have grabbed me," she said haughtily and then sauntered to the driver's side door and opened it without her previous hesitation. She looked over her shoulder at him. "Are you getting in?"

He breathed in and sighed. "Yeah, coming."

::

Renko trusted his partner's driving. He did, honestly. He just gripped the handle bar on the inside of the door because she drove like a maniac- albeit a very skilled one. They made it to the base in half the time it should have taken them. She got out of the car and shut the door. Her grey eyes scanned the area. When she heard his door close, she tossed the keys over the hood and he caught them.

They walked side by side up to the building. He opened the door for her. She stared at him for a few seconds before walking through and then did a quick scan of the immediate area. Renko never thought he'd meet someone more paranoid than Callen, but Angela gave him a run for his money.

Renko flashed his identification and badge. "Mike Renko, NCIS. This is my partner, Angela Mercer."

"ID, please," the guard asked her.

She shot him a dirty look as she pulled it out of the back of her jeans and flipped it open. "You do realize that sensitive intel was stolen," she said to him with a serious face, which seemed to be one of her few expressions. "That makes this a time sensitive issue."

"Understood," the guard said, bristling under her words. "Right this way."

"That was uncalled for," Renko whispered over at her.

"No, it wasn't," she responded.

Renko sighed and dropped it for the moment. He turned back to the guard. "Has there been any luck on figuring out which document or documents are missing?"

"Unknown, sir," the man replied, entering a pass code and opening the door for them. "You'll have to talk to Lieutenant Commander Spears; he can answer that for you." After the two agents walked in, the door shut behind them, locks clicking back into place. Renko turned and noted the kinds of locks they had, impressive security, but obviously it hadn't been good enough to keep out whoever stole the files.

Renko and Angela walked through the room and found the Lieutenant Commander with a few others, sorting out the files and cross-referencing them.

"Right on time," Spears said, standing straight. He didn't seem pleased, and Renko didn't blame the man. Sensitive intelligence had been stolen under his watch. "Are you two NCIS?" Renko nodded and Angela crossed her arms over her chest. "We found out what is missing." Spears said.

"Which is?" Angela didn't have much patience.

"The missing documents are personnel files," Spears replied formally. "NCIS personnel files."

Renko and Angela looked to each other, exchanging a worried glance. "From which branch?" Renko asked.

"Two files from the Office of Special Projects," the Lieutenant Commander responded.

"Which ones?" Angela nearly growled.

"Special Agents G Callen and Michael Renko."

"Shit," Renko whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

"Anything?" Renko asked as Cooper and Faraday came back into the office.

"I'll never eat Skittles again," Cooper said, sitting down heavily in his chair. "Gym membership, big screen TV, brand new leather couches, new car sitting out on the lot, BMW." He pointed over at Faraday.

"But," Faraday took over. "He also had a chequing account in overdraft, three overdue, overcharged credit cards. Looks like he expected to be coming into a large sum of money... or was a complete financial idiot; it's hard to tell."

Renko shook his head. "Maybe he was in on the selling of information and knew he had a payday coming, but someone decided to cut him out, kill him off and take the card."

The other three agents weighed the information and decided it was plausible.

::

Callen had stayed completely and utterly calm as Renko told him about the files being stolen, but there was an angry fire behind those blue eyes. "What do you mean?" Callen's voice remained under tight control, but Renko could hear the anger. "What do you mean our personnel files were stolen? What were they doing there in the first place?"

"I believe I can answer that, for both of you," Hetty said, coming into Renko's team's little corner of the Office of Special Projects. "There was a fire in an office such as this a few years ago. Many agents have little ties to the world and exist only as NCIS agents. With the fire, any trace of them vanished. Those upstairs had a heck of a time putting it all back together. Aliases, identities, all gone. Since then we've put backups in secure military facilities where only the highest security clearance can get you in."

"Until someone steals a pass card," Callen muttered grumpily.

"Indeed," Hetty said. She would be having a chat with the Director and would have those files moved immediately to somewhere more secure. "You two need to be extra careful."

"What exactly is in our personnel files?" Renko asked, wondering what information someone had on him and his friend.

Hetty looked uncomfortable. "Full name, date of birth, home address, aliases. The works."

"Great." Renko muttered. Pretty much worse case scenario kind of personal information in the hands of someone unknown.

"I suggest you both stay somewhere safe until we find out who stole the files and for what reason." Hetty said, walking away. She stopped in the doorway and turned to look at them both. "Be careful, gentlemen," she said and then left.

Callen looked to his team, Renko to his team. "What cases have you two worked together?" Angela asked, breaking the silence. She hadn't seemed as engrossed in the conversation as everyone else. In fact, she had been filling out paperwork the entire time.

"A few, from a long time ago," Renko answered. "Hetty decided we couldn't be partners after a month of working together. Our undercover style is too much alike; we're both too willing to take risks. Our expense reports were through the roof."

"When you ruin someone's life," Angela said as she closed a file. "They have plenty of time to think of ways to get you back. Has anyone the two of you put away gotten out recently?"

"Could be they just took two files at random," Sam suggested, really not wanting his partner to be a target.

"If you're going to take two files, you'd pull them out together, alphabetically. You're breaking and entering- you want to get in and get out before you get caught," Faraday argued. "There is no way they randomly chose Callen and Renko." Faraday shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's personal."

"Oh, that's great," Cooper muttered sarcastically. "But I prefer vengeance to be a Monday thing. I have plans tonight."

"Hey, guys." Eric came in. "We have a case- double homicide with a side of arms trafficking!"

Callen sighed and looked over at Renko. "Keep me posted."

Renko nodded. "Will do."

As Callen's team left, Kimi squeezed in. Her black locks had a wild streak of electric blue on the underside, which showed as she twirled to face them, standing by the monitor. "I checked the surveillance for the military base where the personnel files were being kept," Kimi said as she tapped away on her tablet, the footage coming on screen. "And we have a big problem." She pressed PLAY. "See, super clear footage."

"Not seeing the problem, Kimi," Noah said slowly, his eyes on the screen.

"Wait for it," she replied. The screen went to static. "Someone used a device to cause interference with electronics. Cameras all the way down to the room the files were are filled with static. I can't get anything."

Renko sighed. "So it's back to writing out a list of who might be pissed enough at Callen and me to do this."

"Hold on a second. I said we had problems, not impossibilities," Kimi said, wiggling her fingers before pressing a button. "Exterior camera, higher than the rest, out of range of the interference. Now I didn't get a look at this guy, or girl's, face, but…" She tapped away a bit more and a zoomed and enhanced photo came up. "I did get the license plate."

"Anything?" Renko asked.

Kimi smiled. "Have I ever let you down?" She tapped away. "It's a rental from J.R. Rentals in Long Beach. The car hasn't been returned, but I put a BOLO out on it. Just got word from LAPD, they found it on a side street in Jefferson Park." She beamed proudly at the team and hugged her tablet to her chest.

Renko gave the technical operator a smile and a thankful nod. "Cooper, Faraday, you two go to the rental place." He looked over at Faraday. "Hopefully J.R Rentals has cameras, and whoever rented out the car didn't think to use a jamming device."

"I'll bring home the footage if there is any," Faraday, who was the field agent with the most knowledge on technology, responded with a nod.

He looked over at Angela. "That leaves us with the car."

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out before she grabbed her jacket, and the team headed to the garage.

::

Angela stood watchful as Renko broke into the rental car. She waited a minute before walking to the opposite side as he hit the unlock button. The black gloves seemed to accentuate her long fingers as she quickly popped open the glove box, picked out the user guide and threw it back in. "Nothing in the glove compartment," she said, shutting it. He looked under the seat and found a receipt. He could feel her eyes on him, or perhaps more specifically, on the receipt.

"Gas and Gulp on Fifth Avenue," Renko said, showing it to her. "Guess what this guy bought?"

"I don't play guessing games," Angela said, her tone annoyed. Then again she always sounded a little annoyed.

"Five dollars in gas." Renko looked over the receipt.

"Well, he wouldn't fill it up when he was going to be abandoning it," Angela reasoned.

"A pack of Skittles." He looked up to see Angela grimace slightly. "And a skin mag."

"Classy," Angela said with an eye roll. Renko shook his head but bagged the receipt before they moved to check out the back seat. Finding nothing they walked back to his car. Angela swung the keys around her finger. "Shall we check out the Gas and Gulp?" Angela asked, looking over at him for confirmation.

Renko nodded and opened the door to his car. "Sounds like a plan."

::

"Anything?" Renko asked Faraday over the phone. He stood in front of the Gas and Gulp as Angela leaned against the hood of the car, her foot tapping impatiently against the ground.

_"Nothing you're going to like hearing_ ," Faraday responded. _"Interference, just like the last place. The guy here remembers what our guy looks like. Coop and I are going to take him to a sketch artist, and maybe if we run it through facial rec, we'll get lucky."_

"Sounds good." Renko disconnected and nodded his head toward the Gas and Gulp. Angela followed him inside. He walked up to the front desk with Angela staying to his right, her eyes flicking around the area. "NCIS." Renko flipped his badge at the heavyset female clerk who had wild green eyes and even wilder orange curls. He put down the bagged receipt. "You remember who purchased these things?"

The woman smiled. "Every guy who doesn't just want to man up and pay for his issue of Jugs alone, they always throw in a pack of gum, or a chocolate bar, all flushed and embarrassed. Same with condoms. Guy buys skin mags and condoms, they always throw in something else as if I then wouldn't notice."

Renko frowned. "How about security footage?" There was a time code on the receipt; it wouldn't take long.

"Sorry, hon," the woman responded. "My boss is too cheap to put the damn things in. Those black globes stuck to the roof are apparently a fashion statement. Luckily, this is a good neighbourhood."

He didn't like it, but sometimes information led to dead ends. "Alright," he said with a nod. "Thanks for your time."

"You two have a good day now," she said with a wave.

::

Between the questioning and the driving around, the day had ended up passing quickly. Cooper and Faraday had come back in with a sketch. Kimi put the sketch into the facial recognition program, but it could take time and it might not work at all.

Renko stared at the photocopy. There were notes to the side. Strong, masculine features, all hard planes, narrow eyes, hair in a buzz cut like Callen's, thin lips, wide flattened nose.

"Do you know him?" Angela asked, standing beside where he sat at his desk.

Renko looked at it for a while longer. Something about it seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "No. Well, I mean, I don't think so."

"Did you show it to Callen?" Angela inquired.

"Not yet. He should be back from the field soon." Renko replied.

She leaned against Renko's desk and faced her partner. "Where are you staying tonight?"

"Home," he replied, picking out his time form and filling in the blanks for the day.

"Your home address was in the file," Angela said slowly.

"Yep."

"Then you're either an idiot or you have a death wish."

"Wow, thanks for sugar coating it," Renko replied dryly.

"You're staying with me."

Renko slowly looked up from his paperwork and studied his partner carefully. "Excuse me?"

"Deaf, too?"

"Smart ass," he muttered. "I'll be fine at home, Ange."

"Idiot with a death wish then." Angela stood there in silence for a moment, planning her next move. "I'll tell Lange."

"Hetty," Renko corrected. "Her name is Hetty."

"All you guys are terrified of her," Angela commented with a quick roll of her eyes.

"So, you're going to nark on me?" An eyebrow raised in question as he set his pale green eyes on her.

"Absolutely." Her features were hardened stone and expressed nothing. Her eyes were simmering with anger and just a hint of worry. The worry ended up being the right push. He could remember seeing the worry in her eyes when she'd been trying to ebb the bleeding when he had been shot. He put the pen down. "Fine." He stood, grabbing the sketch. "I have to show this to Callen first."

"I'll wait for you in the garage." She grabbed her bag and left.

::

"Callen," Renko called from Callen's chair. The rest of his team continued up the stairs, and Callen came into the bullpen. Renko flipped the picture around. "Do you recognize this man?"

Callen took the piece of paper and studied it for a long minute. "No."

"Nothing about him seem familiar?"

Callen looked uncomfortable. "Kind of." He shook his head. "Kind of doesn't help. I don't know who he is."

"Me either, but I thought he was 'kind of' familiar, too. I'd dismissed it, but there must be something right about this picture to have us both suspicious. Are you going to stay at Sam's tonight?"

Callen shook his head. "He has two kids. If I'm a target, I'm not painting it on Sam's family."

"You can't go home. I got hustled out of my place."

"Your partner is a force of nature," Callen commented with the beginnings of a smile. "And I'm staying... with Nell."

Renko's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"I haven't shot anyone today," Callen stated with a smile. "Do you want to be the first?"

"No, just got back to work, prefer not to ruin the fine job the doctors did," Renko responded, standing up and grabbing his bag. "I just wish I could figure out why this picture is familiar."

"Maybe it'll get a hit," Callen said with a casual shrug. "Anyway, I have to run. Kensi's going undercover as bait, and I have to get dressed for a club."

"Have fun with that," Renko said with a little wave. "Don't get killed."

"I try not to!" Callen responded.


	3. Chapter 3

Renko had never been to Angela's residence before. After all, it wasn't like she volunteered information about herself. About the only thing he knew about her was how she took her coffee- black. He watched as residential became business and then became the slums. The further they drove, the more tension he felt in his back. "You live here?"

"Yes," Angela responded with complete disregard, as though she didn't notice she lived in a sketchy part of town.

"I think I'd feel safer with whoever knows my address," Renko commented, only half joking. "I feel like I'm going to get shot here."

"That's foolish," Angela said as she pulled the grey Lexus into the back parking lot of a building that had foreclosed signs on the windows. It was three stories high and made of brown brick, ugly as hell. The faded sign read 'Tony's Tires.' In the back lot, he could see that the garage had three doors. She hit the button on the visor, and the third door opened.

"We storing your car here and walking?" Renko asked conversationally, his eyes scanning the immediate area as his paranoia continued to rise.

"I live here," Angela replied, putting her hand on the back of his seat as she turned to look back while she reversed the car into the garage.

"You live at Tony's Tires?" he asked skeptically.

Angela rolled her eyes. "No, Tony's Tires was foreclosed on." She put the car in park and turned off the engine. "I bought the place."

"Why?" Renko asked as he got out of the car. Her white Cadillac was sitting in the second area, the Chevy Nova in the first, and further on a... "Is that a Ducati?"

"An 848," Angela said, her tone quick and annoyed. "And yes."

"Sweet." He started thinking of ways he could convince her to let him take it out for a ride as he followed her to the garage door. She unlocked the door and pushed it open. They walked into what used to be Tony's Tires. It hadn't changed much. Renko saw bare bones shelving units and a counter. Not much, if anything, had been done with the place. There was a constant beeping, though, and he realized it was an alarm system. She punched in the code and flipped it shut.

"Are you afraid that someone might steal your…" He looked around for something of value. "Counter?"

"It's bolted to the floor," Angela said with a tilt of her head. "I highly doubt it." She started up the stairs, and he followed her yet again. They went right past the second floor. She stopped twirling the keys around her finger as she got to the platform of the third level and found the key for the door. "It's a bit of a mess," she warned him, suddenly seeming flustered. "I'm renovating."

"You live in a tire shop," Renko replied with a grin. "Of course, you're renovating."

She rolled her eyes and pushed open the door.

The place had been designed with an open concept. The kitchen to the left of the door was finished- dusty blue cabinets, black countertops, and black appliances. To the right was a stack of wood flooring that needed to be laid. The lighting was ample. She had a sunken living room. The couches were covered with large sheets for good reason, since everything was covered with a thin layer of dust from sanding the dry wall.

"I'll show you where you can put your stuff." She nodded her head to the left, where the bedrooms and bathroom were behind a blanket hanging with tacks in order to try and keep dust from entering that part of her little home. She opened the first door. The bedframe was standing; there was a little dresser; and the mattresses were still in plastic and leaning against the wall. "Haven't really gotten around to finishing everything yet..."

"This is fine." Renko looked around the room. "Thanks for doing this."

"It's fine," she replied, also avoiding eye contact. "Bathroom is across the hall."

He poked his head in. It was a nice set up- white, pristine. A stall-type shower with curved glass around its triangular perimeter was wedged in the corner to the right. A claw bathtub sat by the far wall with an empty wine glass beside it. The sink was to the left. "Nice place you have."

"I'm working on it," she replied from the bedroom where she was ripping off the plastic on the mattress. He came to help. Between the two of them, they set up the box spring and mattress and made the bed with green sheets and a white, green and brown bedspread, filling the room with earthy colours.

They made their way to the kitchen. She had obviously cleaned it spotless the day before; otherwise, it, like everything else, would be covered in dust. "Dinner," she said as she poked her head in the fridge. "I have yogurt, blueberries, strawberries, cheese, salsa, some orange juice..." She closed the fridge and opened a potato box. "Fries," she decided. "We're having fries."

"We could order in," Renko replied lazily as he sat down on one of the stools that slid under the lip of the island.

"The point of living above a foreclosed business is that no one knows I'm here," Angela nearly growled as she got out a knife. It made Renko nervous until he realized she was going to use it to peel the potatoes. "If you go ordering pizza, people will know. I like that they don't."

"You don't have visitors often, do you?"

"No," Angela responded. "You're the first."

He smiled at that. "I'm honoured."

"Don't be," she said seriously. "You're a target. You should be worried about your own ass, not busy being honoured and watching me be domestic. Think," she said sharply. "Who would want both you and Callen dead?"

She waved the knife around as she talked and pointed it at him occasionally. Frankly, it was making him a little uncomfortable.

"There are a few names," he said.

She dropped the knife, pulled open a drawer and tossed him a pen and a pack of sticky notes. "Start writing them down. We can run them down tomorrow." She picked up the knife and got back to work.

"This make you nervous?" he asked as he jotted down the first name that came to mind.

"Cutting potatoes?" she asked quite seriously.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Someone on the team being targeted."

"People who stand up for something always make enemies no matter what side they are on," she responded as she dropped a potato into the sink to be washed and picked up another to skin. "Sometimes it gets personal."

"None of what you said answers the question but nice attempt to avoid it." Renko tapped the pen against the paper for a moment, thinking. "Where did you work before you came to NCIS?" He'd asked before, but she never answered, always avoiding the question.

"Lots of places, here and there," she responded, which to date was the closest he'd gotten to an answer.

"Was it hot?" he asked, trying to get a feel for what other places she might have lived.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On where I was at the time. Like I said…" She dropped a potato in the sink and grabbed another. "Lots of places."

"Where did you start?" he asked, looking up at her. Watching her in her home environment gave him a fresh perspective. He had studied her at the office, where she was efficient, and in the field, where she had her strengths and her weaknesses. In her home she seemed more at ease, rather graceful in her movements. "What was your first job?"

She bit her lip but stopped when she realised it was a tell. "I..." She peeled the potato carefully. "Could you grab a pot?" she asked. "They're behind me, second drawer."

"The last team you had," he said, walking around her. "What happened to them?"

"What makes you think I had a team?" she questioned frostily.

"You know teams; you know how they work and how to break them apart. You really didn't like me when we first met." He got the pot and placed it beside her, his hands pressing against the island on either side of her, pinning her in place. His body didn't touch hers, but he immediately realized how she tensed.

"What makes you think I like you now?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"You'd be gone if you didn't have a reason to stay."

She turned in his arms with a scoff. "What makes you think that you're my reason for staying?"

"You don't have any visitors. You purposely keep people out," Renko responded, dropping his arms. He'd gotten results and didn't want to push her too far. "The team is all you have."

"A team is..." she cut herself off, turned back around and picked up the knife. "If you want to keep your internal organs where they are, sit down and write out who might want to kill you _and Callen_."

"Why do you call Hetty by her last name?"

She pointed her knife at him. "Pretty soon you're not going to have to worry about who's coming for you."

Sensing he had pushed too far, too fast, he put up his hands in surrender. "Point taken." Renko went back to writing the list.

::

She made some great fries, crispy, covered in cheese and dipped in salsa. 'Multiple food groups,' she had explained. After dinner she'd started sanding the drywall plaster again, trying to get it even. She had a mask on, a tool belt slung on her hips, and her hair in its typical bun. Renko enjoyed watching her. She knew what she was doing and was efficient at her work. And, there was just something about a woman in a tool belt.

"Do you mind if I hit the shower?" he asked.

"Go ahead," she replied, stepping back to look at her work. With an approving nod, she turned to Renko. "Did you think of anyone promising?"

Renko shook his head. But something about that picture was still bothering him...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading :)

Renko woke early in the morning. He forced himself from bed and turned off the alarm on his phone that would go off in a few minutes anyway. With a sigh, he stood and stretched. He yawned and caught sight of a bright yellow sticky note on the open door to the bedroom he stayed in.

Two words _: Went running._ Brief, to the point and not signed. He shook his head, grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom.

After he had showered and dressed, he felt much more refreshed and alert. Ready to start the day, he pushed past the tacked up blanket between the short hallway and the living space to find a very angry looking golden retriever. The furry beast lowered on its front paws ready to pounce, lips curled back, teeth bared, a deep growl rumbled in warning.

"Fuck," Renko whispered as his entire body tensed. He hated dogs. Okay, so he didn't _hate_ dogs. He hated _attack_ dogs. He didn't have his gun, and he didn't feel very confident about the odds of getting back into the guest room and shutting the door before the dog bit him.

"Sugar! Down!" Angela walked over in a pair of black jogging capris and a blue jogging zip up hoodie and placed her hand on the dog's head.

"What the hell?" Renko's voice was strained by the fear that had lodged in his throat. "Where the hell did he come from?"

" _She_. Sugar is a she." Angela said, grabbing Renko's hand. Her hands were smooth from moisturisers but calloused from work. "Friend," she told the dog, who then came forward to sniff Renko's hand. The dog's disposition did a one eighty as she welcomed her new friend by circling the two of them, momentarily knocking Angela into Renko's chest. She looked up at him with surprised grey eyes. "Sorry," she said, backing up a few extra steps before the dog knocked into her again.

"Sugar?" Renko raised an eyebrow in question. "What the hell kind of name is that for a dog?" He took a steadying breath and placed his hand on the dog's head in hopes that it would get it- _her_ to stop circling him.

"It's a pet name." Even Angela couldn't help but smile just a little.

"Oh," Renko groaned, but a smile flitted across his face. "Did you really name your dog Sugar just so you could make a joke out of it?"

"Maybe," she replied quietly, her shoulders rising and falling marginally.

He thought she looked kind of cute in that moment- a little younger without the scowl she usually had on her face, a slight sheen of sweat, sharp grey eyes, and the ghost of a smile still lingering on her sharp features.

"Where was she before?" He asked as he moved to the kitchen to scrounge for food. Breakfast foods appeared to be limited to berries or yogurt. He sighed and settled for the blueberries and rinsed them off.

"There are some people around who do dog sitting," Angela replied. "I don't like her breathing in the dust all day. Besides, if I get held over with work, they just charge me more." She grabbed a dog dish from a cupboard and filled it with water, then got another to fill with food. She looked at the clock, swore and hurried off toward the shower. "I'll be ready in ten!" she said, pushing the tacked blanket out of her way.

He ate a few blueberries in a rather discontent fashion. Frowning at the pathetic excuse for a breakfast, he decided they would have to pick up donuts or something on the way to work, because the blueberries just weren't doing it for him. Sugar sat by his side and looked up expectantly. Renko eyed the dog with a feeling of apprehension. He once had an attack dog take a good chunk from his left leg. He still had the teeth marks. Sugar nudged his hand with her nose. He put a blueberry in his palm and offered it to her. She lapped it up and looked quite happy. "Huh," he muttered to himself.

Angela came back smelling of vanilla and ylang-ylang, which Renko could only identify because he read the shampoo bottle when he'd been in the shower. "You know, you're the first woman I've ever known who says they'll be done in ten and you're actually done in nine."

"I'm a stickler for punctuality," she replied. Her dark red locks were twirled into a bun, no surprise there. She wore a long sleeved V-neck in black, her jeans were a pale blue, faded and worn. She always wore either a black, white or grey shirt and jeans were that either pale blue, dark blue, or black. She didn't fuss with her hair and never bothered with makeup. He vaguely wondered why as he followed her from the apartment. She locked the door. Sugar's nails clicked against the stairs as she ran down ahead of them.

"What's in there?" he asked, pointing to the door on the second floor.

"Right now? Not much," Angela responded, fidgeting with her keys. "It's kind of storage. I've basically cleared it all out. Eventually, I think I'll make it into a home gym, but I have to finish up the living quarters first." She twirled her keys around her finger, her eyes avoiding his. She opened the door to the garage, snapped her fingers and pointed. Sugar went into the garage and sat down. Angela looked at Renko, a little smirk on her face. She once again snapped her fingers and pointed.

He couldn't help himself; a smile came upon his face as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "You're snappy today."

She groaned. "That was really bad, Mike," she laughed.

"You have a soft spot for puns," he said rather incredulously as he walked out to stand by Sugar. "Who knew?"

She shut the door on Renko and her dog, turned around and activated the alarm. The warning beeps started and she hurried out the door to the garage shutting and locking it before the timer ran out.

"So, which vehicle?" Renko asked as he looked around at the selection.

"The Nova. It's the closest thing to a tank I own," Angela replied. She tapped her window when she got to the driver side. "Bulletproof glass."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that really necessary?"

Angela stood there quietly for a moment. "It was at the time," she shrugged. "And since someone wants you dead, it seems like it was a good investment." She opened the back door; Sugar jumped in and sat in the middle. Angela slid into the driver seat and started up the Nova while Renko got in beside her.

They dropped off Sugar at a dog sitter, one of thirteen in the area Angela rotated between. Renko begged, so they stopped for donuts on the way to the office.

Renko carried the box balanced on one forearm while he drank his coffee, leading the way down the hall of the upper floor of OSP, Angela right behind him.

"Honey glazed?" Cooper asked, perking up the moment he saw the box of donuts. Renko set his coffee down on his desk and opened the box as he walked over to the other agent. Cooper grabbed his favourite from the batch with a satisfied grin. "Thanks."

Renko looked pointedly at the empty desk beside Cooper's. "Faraday not in yet?"

"He's talking to Kimi," Cooper responded before taking a bite of his donut.

"And here I am," Faraday came in, pushing back some of his blond hair. "Unfortunately, Kimi didn't get a hit on facial rec."

"It was a long shot," Renko said with a shrug before dropping off his go bag by his desk.

"Got some names for me, boss?" Kimi asked, coming in and leaning her hip against Renko's desk.

Renko held up a small pile of sticky notes. "These, but none of them would match the guy in the picture."

Kimi took the stack and flipped through them, her sharp light brown eyes scanning the names quickly. "I'll run them anyway," Kimi said, shooting him a reassuring smile before she skipped off with her work.

"How does she do that?" Cooper asked, staring after the young technician.

"Skip?" Angela asked, sounding a little confused.

Cooper rolled his eyes. "Be so damned peppy." He sat back in his chair, his eyes returning to his work. "Sure, it's adorable but a little weird here."

::

Callen stormed into their office space a little after noon looking eight kinds of pissed. He stood directly across from where Renko worked and slammed his hands on the man's desk hard enough to shift some of Renko's inbox papers. "My car is gone!"

"Please tell me not the Rapide!" Renko replied in a quick panic, more out of a healthy fear of Hetty then anything else.

Callen narrowed his blue eyes. "No. I mean _my_ car. My Mercedes. I just got the damn thing after my other one ate bullets!" Callen's hands waved angrily as he spoke. "It's gone."

"Can't be a coincidence," Angela said seriously.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Callen replied, his voice filled with sarcasm. "What the hell is going on? Our files were stolen, and they used the information to pinch my car?" Callen blew out an angry breath and put his hands on his hips.

"Well, if the desired effect was to anger you, it worked," Angela said dispassionately, returning to her paperwork.

"If I go home and they stole my chair, I'm going to be super pissed," Callen muttered half-heartedly as reason and levelheadedness started to return.

"G, we have to go," Sam said as he poked his head in the room. "Stolen missiles. Remember?" Sam made a show of tapping his watch.

Callen nodded and waved his partner off before turning to Renko. "Find my car, Mike," Callen demanded before following Sam out.

"Who the hell goes to the trouble of stealing classified Special Operations Agent personnel files and then uses the information to steal a car?" Faraday asked, shooting an aggravated look at the stack of paperwork on his desk.

Renko picked up his phone and hit the eight button, which paged the team's technician. "Kimi, find Callen's Mercedes."

" _On it_ ," she replied perkily.

"I don't know," Renko said, sitting back in his chair and tapping his pen. His car sat in the NCIS garage since Angela had driven. He wondered, if they'd stolen Callen's car, what they'd take from him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading!

"Faraday, Cooper, do you two mind taking a ride past my place and see if it appears to have been broken into?" Renko asked. If Callen's car had been stolen, perhaps something had been taken from his house. His car remained secure. He had left it overnight in the office garage since he'd gotten a ride with Angela. The entire stolen vehicle situation didn't make much sense to him. Then again, his car was one of the possessions Callen actually seemed to care about. Sure a car was a car to him, and he replaced them often enough, but he didn't seem to like replacing them. It was probably more paperwork than he wanted to indulge in. Frankly, Renko didn't blame him.

"Yeah, sure," Cooper responded, easy-going by nature. He grabbed his keys off his desk. "I'm driving."

"I'm so, so, so very sorry," Kimi said, walking into the office with her eyes firmly shut. She chewed on her bottom lip; her hands holding her tablet like a lifeline.

Cooper leaned back against his desk. "Oh, this is either going to be really good, or really bad."

"Oh, it's bad," Kimi said, her light brown eyes flicking his way. "Really, really, super bad."

"Depends on how you look at things," Cooper said with a hint of a smile.

"What is it?" Renko asked as he leaned back in his seat before Kimi could work herself up into a full-blown panic attack. Kimi could do serious when they were in a firefight and she was sending them crucial information, but beyond that she always seemed to be incredibly well adjusted and happy to be skipping around Ops. The fact that she seemed so anxious gave him a really bad feeling.

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously for a few more seconds before working up the nerve to respond. "Your house."

Renko stood now, hands planted on his desk. "What about my house?" The words came out a little more hardened than he had meant it to. It could just be spray paint, which would be pain to clean off. Maybe some broken windows that would cost out the ass to replace. Broken into and trashed he figured to be the most likely scenario- an awful mess to clean up later. Trying to figure out if anything was stolen would be nearly impossible.

Kimi bit her lip again and tapped a few buttons on her tablet. An image came up on the screen on the far wall of their office. He recognized the bare bones structure of his house even as a fire fully engulfed it. He felt a little weak in the knees, which he attributed to shock. Rage made it hard to remain rational. He felt a disconnection from the footage before him and a bit of grief for the belongings he had once treasured and now had to let go. He told himself that a house is a house, things can be replaced, but it didn't make him feel any better.

He could feel all the eyes on him, everyone wondering how he'd take the news. "Well," he said at last, grateful that his voice remained even. "At least my car was here last night," he said, trying to break the tension. He took in a deep breath. He still had his car, although after being shot in it, he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the vehicle.

"I'm going to get a line to LAPD's arson department," Kimi promised. "I'm also going to call up the Fire Marshal and see if I can get you guys in to see him." She gave Renko a quick hug. "Do you need anything?" She still held him around the waist but looked up at him with her light chocolate eyes. "Hot chocolate with those little marshmallows? That always makes me feel better." She said it with such kindness and honesty that he had to smile just a bit.

"Thanks, Kimi, but I'm okay," he insisted. "It's just a house."

She let him go and flashed him a smile. "Now you can have an exciting house hunting adventure and decorate! It could be fun!" The girl sure could put a positive spin on everything.

He shook his head. He hated moving, but at least now he didn't have anything to move. He couldn't care less about decorating, but he smiled and nodded for her benefit.

Kimi turned and walked briskly out of the room, working on her tablet.

"I'm going to go ahead and say that, that first order you gave," Cooper said apprehensively. "It's a little... redundant now."

"Yeah," Renko responded, looking at the image on the screen.

Kimi came running back in. "I got a hit on Kaleidoscope!" She cried out excitedly. "It found Agent Callen's car! And it's not on fire!" She beamed.

"Where?" Renko jumped up. He needed to get up, to do something, desperate for the distraction. His house, the home that he had created for himself, was gone, burnt to ashes. He really didn't want to think about it.

"North Hollywood," Kimi responded with a smile as everyone's phones went off at once. "Sent you the address!"

"Ange?" She pulled the keys to the Nova out of her pants but didn't follow him. Instead she stood there twirling the keys around her index finger. "You coming?"

"I'm going," Angela responded with a small nod. "You're staying."

"Excuse me?" Renko's temper flared. He was already having a bad day; heck, he was having a bad few months. He had been shot, his personnel file had been stolen and his house had been burnt down. He was afraid to even think about how it could get worse. He'd been doing the job long enough to know that when you think it can't get worse, the fates prove you very, very wrong. She didn't back down, and they were chest to chest in seconds. "I'm the agent in charge here," he said, staring down at his partner.

"You're also the agent with a target painted on your back," Angela responded through clenched teeth. She didn't back down an inch. "I'll go check out the car. You can finish your paperwork." She poked him in the chest. "You're getting behind."

Renko shook his head; her problems with authority and following orders were really rubbing him the wrong way. His house just burnt down! He wasn't feeling agreeable to begin with. "I am going. Simple as that."

"No, you're not," Angela bit back.

"Mr. Renko," Hetty came in. "My office, please. There are some things we need to discuss."

Angela took the time to step around her partner but was stopped by Hetty. "Miss Mercer, why don't you go with Mr. Cooper and Mr. Faraday? Consider it a team bonding experience."

Angela debated this for a minute. "Do you have a copy of Agent Callen's key? Or should I just hot wire it?"

Hetty pulled the key out of her pocket as if by magic and handed it to her. "Shotgun!" Cooper called, following Angela out with Faraday close behind.

Renko watched his team walk down the hallway and out of sight. He stood there for a few seconds, trying to get his temper under control. Hetty motioned for him to follow her, so he fell into step behind her. "Are you going to interrupt every fight we have?" Renko asked.

"I thought your fights would lessen, perhaps all together disappear after the trauma the two of you went through together," Hetty responded, not truly answering the question as she turned and started down the stairs. She led them to her office. He waited for her to pour her tea and continue. She offered him a cup, but he declined as he settled down into the chair across from her. "I thought you two would bond, perhaps talk a few things out," Hetty said, with a distant look upon her face. "I thought given enough time she would start feeling comfortable here."

"How do you two know each other?" Renko asked.

"How, where from or why we know each other is not something you need to know, Mr. Renko," Hetty responded calmly.

"You've got to give me something here, Hetty. One minute she's…" He threw his hands up and paused a moment as he tried to calm down. "She's introducing me to her dog Sugar, who I'm pretty sure is named purposely to be a pun, and the next she's in my face and completely disobedient to orders. She doesn't work well with a team; she doesn't listen unless it's a move she's calculated to be in her best interest or the best interest of the case." He sat back, rubbing his temples. "I'm at my wit's end with her, or maybe it's the entire getting shot and my house becoming ashes that's the problem." He shook his head thinking it would clear his mind but it did nothing to help him.

Hetty seemed pensive for a long moment as if deciding how much to tell him and how much to keep to herself. "You know, when you were shot... I met with her at the hospital. She'd ridden with you in the ambulance. They'd taken you into surgery." Hetty took a sip of tea. "I found her pacing back and forth in front of the doors. I got her to sit down, but she... she kept staring at her hands. Your blood was still coating them."

The mental image of Hetty and Angela sitting side by side in the hospital waiting for news, Angela with his blood covering her hands, sent a shiver down his spine.

"When you were finally out of surgery and she was able to see you, still alive, still breathing, only then was I able to convince her to go and get cleaned up. She was back in a time that told me she'd broken every traffic law between the hospital and her residence." Hetty clasped her hands together. "She stayed with you, sitting vigil for days waiting for you to wake. Everyone moved in and out, staying for a time, reading or talking to you, but she stayed, refusing to leave."

"Half the time she acts like she can't stand me," he said with a shake of his head. "Then, there are days when she tells me I'm staying at her place, and I know it's because she's worried for my safety." Renko understood worry. He understood friendship and loyalty. Angela seemed to as well, only she covered up her worry, friendship and loyalty with a bristly demeanor and sharp words.

Hetty seemed to be having an internal debate. "I met Miss Mercer when she was working another type of job."

Renko's eyes narrowed curiously. "What type?"

"Unimportant." She shot him a warning glance over the rim of her glasses. "Do you want the bare bones or nothing at all?"

It took him all of a second to realize whatever she planned to give him would be labeled _classified_ , and he shouldn't be told even the crumbs she was willing to part with. "Tell me."

"She was on a team before, a close knit group," Hetty replied. "All you need to know is that she is the sole survivor. A team of twelve, and she's the only one left."

That explained a lot. Renko couldn't fathom that kind of loss. It pained him greatly to even consider the loss of his own team. Teams at OSP weren't just colleagues. They ended up being the people you spent all your time with, brothers and sisters in arms, the people who keep you alive and keep you sane. They become family. She'd lost her family, lost eleven people that she deeply cared about.

He shook his head sadly. "How?"

"You're lucky you got that," Hetty responded shortly before taking a sip of tea. "You should finish your paperwork, Mr. Renko."

He got up, realizing she'd dismissed him. He stopped at the edge of her office and looked back. "Any chance you'll tell me why she calls you 'Lange?'"

"None at all," Hetty responded. "If you want any more information, it'll have to come from your partner."

Renko rubbed a hand over his chin. His beard pricked, about eighteen hours past a five o'clock shadow. "I don't think she will share."

"Be patient, Mr. Renko," Hetty advised. "Miss Mercer may be pushing her bounds, but what I saw today was her fighting to protect you. Insubordination aside, her heart was in the right place. Though she'd never admit it, she does have one and it leads more often than she's likely comfortable with."

Hetty went back to her own paperwork, and Renko headed back to the stairs with plenty to think about.

::

"I don't know how Renko rides around with you," Cooper said, getting out of the car and stretching out his six foot three frame. "You know," he said, running his hand through his wavy dark locks. "You give LA cab drivers a run for their money."

"Keep it up, Chuckles, and you'll be walking back to the office," Angela responded, twirling the keys around her finger once before shoving them into the pocket of her well-worn, dark brown leather jacket.

Cooper didn't say anything, figuring Angela to be the type of woman to leave him stranded in North Hollywood.

"Anyone else think there is something off about this?" Faraday asked as the three of them stopped beside Callen's white Mercedes. "Why steal a car from a federal agent and then just leave it in North Hollywood?"

"Maybe he went into the strip club and lost track of time," Cooper responded as he did a preliminary check around.

"If you're going toe to toe with two dangerous men with an entire agency to back them up, I doubt you'll be blowing your dollars down a stripper's G-string and losing track of time," Angela scolded.

Cooper stared at her a minute. "I can't believe you just said G-string." He stared a moment longer before looking back at the car. "It seems weird."

Angela rolled her steely eyes and shook her head as she pulled out the key to Callen's car. "Locked?"

"Yeah," Cooper responded. "Whoever left it here only wanted someone with a key to get in."

"Do you guys think it's wired?" Angela asked. The three of them looked around the car but found nothing to indicate a bomb. Angela stuck in the key and turned it; the lock popped open. "This is too easy," she said suspiciously as they all put on their plastic gloves. She gave the car another look over before opening the door. She hit the unlock button. Cooper started looking in the back seat, while Faraday looked in the passenger's side.

"It wasn't supposed to be a trap," Faraday said as he pulled a newspaper clipping from the glove box and turned it to show the other team members. "It's a message."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading :)

Angela Mercer, Noah Faraday and Ryan Cooper stood in a triangle on the sidewalk all leaning in to see the newspaper clipping in Faraday's hands.

"What's it about?" Cooper asked, shifting closer with impatience as he tried to read the paper over his partner's shoulder.

"Darren Wallace." Faraday's dark green eyes quickly scanned the article as he elbowed back to get Cooper to back off. "Apparently he was arrested in connection with a homegrown terrorist plot."

"Who wants to bet that the arresting officers were Callen and Renko?" Cooper asked as he crossed his arms over his chest, comfortable in the black leather jacket he wore. "So what? He got out and is all pissed off that they sent him to prison?" Cooper speculated.

"If he's done his time, why would he go and commit grand theft auto on Agent Callen's car and leave his own picture and article in the glove box?" Angela asked, raising an eyebrow in clear disbelief.

"Maybe Wallace wants them to know that it's him," Faraday suggested with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "He's lost years of his life; he wants them to suffer, too."

"How 'bout we quit speculating?" Cooper said, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jacket and dialing a familiar number.

" _Good day, Mr. Cooper!"_ Kimi's bubbly voice came through the speaker. _"How goes the car search?"_

"Good," Cooper replied with a smile on his face. Kimi never failed to make him smile. "We cleared the car and found an article in the glove box about an arrest made on Darren Wallace. Did he get out of prison?"

" _Searching now,"_ Kimi responded. _"Hey, Coop?"_

"Yeah?"

" _What would I have to do for you to bring me back a Klondike bar?"_

Cooper shook his head, his dark wavy hair becoming a mess around his face. "The question is 'what would you do for a Klondike bar?'"

" _Pretty much anything,"_ Kimi responded, and Cooper bit back laughter. _"I once had a tablespoon of hot sauce for one, but it kind of ruined it."_

"You just keep being adorable, and I'll get Mercer to stop the car on the way back," Cooper promised, shooting a wink at Angela. The female agent sighed and rolled her eyes.

" _What if I'm cute instead of adorable when you get back?"_ Kimi asked playfully.

Cooper smirked. Highlights of his workday always included flirting with the sweet technical operator. "Are you stalling?"

" _Maybe."_ She replied, a smile in her voice. _"Ah-ha! I'm in!"_ She cried jubilantly. _"Okay, so I got the prison files and.. oh my, Darren Wallace was beaten to death in prison two years ago. That's unfortunate, you know, other than the fact that he was a terrorist."_

"Well, dead guys don't do arson or grand theft," Faraday muttered. He was frustrated- the files of two agents were out there, in the hands of a criminal. Cases were always harder when they became personal.

" _Unless he's a ghost,"_ Kimi said quite seriously. The agents were silent for a second all wondering if the perky technical operator finally had lost her marbles. _"Just kidding!"_ She said happily. _"Do you need anything else?"_

"Have some tech's ready to process Callen's car," Cooper said with a grin. "Faraday's going to wait for the tow truck."

Faraday glared at his partner and flipped him off.

" _On it! Don't forget-"_

" _The Klondike bar,"_ Kimi and Cooper said together.

"Got it," Cooper ended and hung up.

::

"Oh, yummy!" Kimi said, skipping up to Cooper, eyes lit up. The smile on her face spoke of a double entendre. He handed her the ice cream treat and smiled at her. Kimi stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Ryan." She ripped off the top half of the paper and took a bite. "Mmm, so good."

"Now I'm wishing I'd gotten one," Cooper said as they followed behind Angela.

Kimi handed it over. "I'm a middle child. I know how to share," she said with a grin.

Angela walked into the office wordlessly. She took deliberate steps to her desk and sat down. She judged the tension in the air and, after a second, actually looked over in Renko's direction. "We found Agent Callen's car," she informed him.

"I heard," Renko replied, dotting the 'I's' and crossing the 'T's' on his paperwork.

Angela spun her chair just slightly so she fully faced Renko, who's desk sat directly beside hers. "Faraday found a newspaper clipping in the glove box."

"Kimi kept me in the loop," Renko said, his eyes never leaving his paperwork. "Which is more than you did," he said in undertone.

"I'm going to check out the car," Cooper said as he grabbed Kimi's arm and started to walk backwards.

Kimi fell in step with Cooper. They turned around once out of the doorway. She waited until they were down the hall before she spoke. "The boss man doesn't look happy," Kimi said sadly as she walked beside Cooper.

He released her arm as they turned out into the main corridor. "They've got to work it out. Besides, I sense a battle royal coming on," Cooper said. He shook his head. He had no desire to play referee between Renko and Angela "Let's see if Sierra found any prints in the car."

::

Angela waited until Cooper and Kimi left the room. She grabbed a folder of paperwork from her inbox and opened it. She chose a blue pen from its holder and clicked the end. "What does that mean?"

Her words were heated, but it had an undertone of sadness to it that Renko picked up and dismissed immediately. He wouldn't go soft on her just because Hetty had told him a few things. Their partnership happened to be the most volatile situation he'd ever had to be in, and he'd known volatile. They needed to get their working relationship moving smoothly otherwise it could cost them both big time. "It means you disobeyed direct orders-"

"Lange agreed-," she cut in.

Renko cut her off right back by his next words. "Not only that, but I'm the agent in charge, and you undermined my authority with the others," Renko's voice had gotten deep with anger. He looked over at her, her expression displaying nothing. Walls up, emotions on lock down.

"I was right," Angela said, standing, her temper finally getting the better of her. "You wanted to go out there and get in the thick of things, but you did you stop and think?" She threw her arms up in the air for a moment in a highly annoyed gesture. "Even for a second, did you just think about what might happen if you had gone out there?"

Renko got to his feet, too, and the two were back to the same position they were before. Chest to chest, glaring at the other. Renko's hands were balled into fists at his sides. Angela had both hands on her hips. They were both fighting to be the alpha in the relationship, neither the type of person who had an easy time relinquishing any measure of control.

"Whoever this is wants me, I understand that," Renko all but growled. He struggled to keep his anger in check, struggled to stay rational and levelheaded. "But I'm not going to hide under my desk and wait for it to all play out."

"But did you think?!" She poked his chest with every word. He swatted her hand away before she could do it again, and she slapped him across the face.

Unless sparring- in which he'd discovered she was lacking in hand-to-hand skills- she'd never struck him. It shocked him into a momentary silence; she seemed just as surprised and stopped her tirade.

"They stole your files," she said after she found her voice again. It was low but her tone didn't lose the heat, the anger. "They want you, Mike. I'm not going to let you walk like a lamb to the slaughter."

Hetty's haunting words came back to him. _"All you need to know is that she is the sole survivor. A team of twelve, and she's the only one left."_

"You want to get grumpy, fine," Angela said. "I've had your blood on my hands." He looked up, finally snapping out of the shock of being struck by his partner. Her fair skin displayed a flush of anger. Her voice had trembled and damn it if her eyes weren't looking awfully watery. "I won't just..." Her jaw clenched. She moved to turn away, but he grabbed her arm.

"I'm not going to just wait this out in the office, Angela," he told her softly.

She looked at his hand on her arm and then back to his face. Their eyes met curiously, the anger between them momentarily dissipating.

"Sierra's got a print." Faraday paused in the doorway and stared openly at them, an eyebrow raised with interest, a little smirk playing upon his lips.

"Kimi running it?" Renko asked, completely ignoring the moment past as he let go of Angela's arm. She immediately took a few steps away, putting some personal space between herself and her partner.

"Yeah," Faraday responded, but the look on his face said he continued to try to figure out what was going on between the partners. "She also got us an appointment with the fire marshal." Faraday ran a hand over his short, fair locks. "Figured you two would want to take it."

"Yeah, we'll take it." Renko looked over to Angela. "My car or yours?" His pale green eyes held a challenge, as if daring her to argue.

"Mine," Angela responded instantly. She might have agreed easily, but her sharp grey eyes narrowed at him, lips pressed together in an annoyed fashion. She pulled the keys to her Nova from her pants and twirled them around her index finger.

::

Angela had a white-knuckle grip on the wheel as she drove them through the city. She still looked angry, but he couldn't tell if it was because of what had happened between them, or if that was just her usual scowl.

Given that he sat in the passenger seat, he could observe her easily. Her eyes checked her mirrors consistently. She checked her left mirror, flicked on her blinker, checked her blind spot and then switched lanes. Her hand opened fully, her fingers spread out before they once again tightened around the wheel. Her lips were pressed together, telling him her anger still simmered.

"We're partners," Renko said, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them. Something had to be done. "If you don't want to be part of this team, if you don't want to work with me…" He shrugged. "Fine. Ask Hetty for a transfer." He didn't want to lose his partner, despite the odd nature of their partnership. He had never been the type to throw in the towel. She presented a challenge, and he would take it. At the same time, he wouldn't lock her into the situation- if she wanted out, so be it.

Angela remained quiet for a minute. He watched her face, but she didn't give away much. She sat back in her seat a bit when they stopped at a red light.

"What did she tell you?" Her grey eyes flicked in his direction as she tried to read his face. "Don't lie and say it was about the case." She narrowed her eyes in warning. "What did she tell you?"

"You were on a team," he admitted what Hetty told him. If there remained any chance of saving their partnership, he needed to play it straight. "Your team died." He watched her face; other than the tightness in her jaw her emotions remained locked down. "That's all Hetty told me."

She looked ahead of her but the other cars had yet to move. Her hands let go of the wheel and then gripped it yet again. "I'm not asking for a transfer."

"Then you have to start working with me, Ange," Renko said, his pale green eyes studying her sharp profile.

"Did she tell you how my team died?" She asked quietly, her eyes remaining resolutely straight ahead.

"No, just that you were the only one left alive," Renko responded. She didn't say anything but put her blinker on and switched lanes impatiently just as the cars started moving again. "Are you going to tell me how they died?"

Angela remained silent as she turned left at the light. "Bad orders," she finally replied. Vague but it was something. She hit her blinker once more to pull into the lot. "We're here."

Her team died because of someone's bad orders. He figured that explained why she consistently questioned his, but he knew this conversation was long from over.

His phone went off just as they got out of the car now parked outside of the firehouse. Renko pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans and checked the ID: Callen. "Hey, G," Renko answered.

_"Hey, Kimi just updated me on the case. I took another look at Darren Wallace and the picture from the sketch artist. It's the eyes, Mike. That is what's familiar. They have the same eyes."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading

Renko tried to remember Darren Wallace. The case had been a long time ago but now with the reference in his mind he could see why familiarity had hit his gut. "Put me on speaker," Mike requested as he and Angela leaned against the hood of the Nova in front of the firehouse.

" _Go,"_ Callen said, the echo signaling speaker mode.

"Kimi," Mike said.

" _I'm here, Boss!"_ Her peppy voice came on the line.

"Locate every relative of Darren Wallace. We have to be looking at a relative."

" _I'm on it!"_ she responded. He could hear keys clicking in the background.

"So, how is your car?" Renko asked Callen with a smile.

" _Sierra dusted it down and ran the print she found. No match, but it's a good print. We can use it for comparison,"_ Callen informed. _"She also laid into me about not having my oil changed a month ago as scheduled."_

Renko smiled. "Figured she would." Renko had known Sierra a long time, all the way back to when she was still an agent and didn't look so _haunted_. Since Callen constantly damaged or totaled vehicles, Sierra always gave him a hard time about his personal cars and an even harder time when signing out one of the NCIS vehicles. "I have to run; we're going to talk with the Fire Marshal."

" _Yeah, sorry about your house," Callen replied. "I sure hope you had insurance."_

Renko bit his lip worriedly. "Me, too." The two men disconnected.

A man in uniform exited the building and smiled at them. "Are you Michael Renko?"

"Are you Fire Marshal Colin Trent?" Renko asked in return.

The blonde haired, bearded man gave a nod. "Got a chipper call from a Kimi Niigata. She said you'd be coming."

"What did you find?" Renko questioned, getting directly to the point. He struggled as he tried to cope with the simple fact that his house had burned to the ground, completely unsalvageable, that all of his belongings had gone up in flames. He didn't really want to prolong the questioning.

"An accelerant was used around the outer area of the house, heavily around doors and windows. Gasoline to be specific," Colin replied. "It lit when a Molotov cocktail was thrown through a window."

Renko couldn't help but think of the 'what if's.' What if he had been home? What if he hadn't been able to get out? Burning to death or dying of smoke inhalation wasn't on the list of deaths he found acceptable. Shooting he'd accepted as a suitable and likely answer, but, admittedly, he'd prefer dying of old age in his sleep.

Angela turned from Trent to look at her partner. Renko had paled considerably. Her lips pressed into a stern line. Her partner looked a little lost, and it caused her heart to twist. She pushed the protective instinct and surge of emotion down for the moment and returned her attention to the Fire Marshal.

"Any firebugs in the area with that MO?" Angela inquired since her partner seemed to be momentarily unable to think straight.

"Actually, yes," Trent responded with a slight nod. "A man by the name of Jesse McKinney. He was in and out of juvenile detention centres for most of his teen years. Got pretty burnt in the last fire, though, and that was six years ago. Not another fire from him since. He's the only one in the area that I know of who uses gasoline and a Molotov."

Renko nodded. "Thanks." He turned on his heel, suddenly wanting to put as much space between himself and the firehouse as possible. Fight or flight had kicked in, and, despite trying to fight it, flight currently won out.

Angela watched her partner and shook her head. She quickly returned to questioning Trent so she could catch up. "What time was the fire set?" she asked, a grim set to her features.

"The fire was called in at three in the morning," Trent responded.

Renko bristled, overhearing Trent's response. He glanced over his shoulder to see Angela nod gravely, and then she asked one more question. "What room was the Molotov thrown into?"

"The bedroom."

Renko tried to push down the fear that rose in his chest. At three in the morning he would have been asleep; he would have burnt to death. Angela's hand touched his arm. He hadn't even realized she'd walked over.

"You're staying with me until this is over." Her words were a command, not an option, but she had spoken them softly, her grey eyes seemed softer with empathy.

"Don't have much of a choice," he replied lightly,` since he knew neither wanted to make a big deal out of his staying.

"Still can't talk you into sitting this one out?" Angela asked, taking her keys out of her pocket. He heard the tinkling sound as they hit each other while swirling around the key ring on her finger and then clicked in her palm.

"Not a chance," Renko replied as he walked beside her.

She sighed. She hadn't really believed he'd scare off. "Fine."

::

When Renko and Angela returned to the office, Faraday led them up to the Ops centre. "We've been busy trying to figure out who's most likely to hate both you and Callen from the list of Darren Wallace's relatives," Faraday explained as he jogged up the steps in front of them. "We have two likely candidates."

"Joy of joys," Renko muttered as they walked the few steps into the lightly lit Ops centre.

Cooper looked up when the group came in. "What did the Fire Marshal say?" he inquired.

"We got a firebug's name," Renko replied as he came to stand by the large table. "One of your candidates a Jesse McKinney?"

Cooper frowned. "No."

"We're actually looking at the son of Darren Wallace. His name is David, and, when his father went to prison, his life-" Faraday trailed off looking for the words to describe the situation.

"It went to shit," Cooper offered helpfully.

"I was trying to put it more eloquently," Faraday replied, shooting a side-glance at his partner.

Cooper raised an eyebrow at his partner before the turned to Renko. "His life completely went to shit," Cooper continued, having no time for pretty words. "His fiancée left him. His mother, who was deathly ill, became his responsibility. Had to work three jobs to try and keep on top of house payments and medical bills."

"It doesn't sound like he has time to be setting fires and stealing cars," Angela said, leaning against the table. She felt frustrated with how the case was progressing. Each new development left a new worry on her mind. Her eyes flicked briefly to her partner, who seemed engrossed in the new information. She could have lost him, and it bothered her immensely.

"Well, when his mother died six months ago, he quit two of those jobs," Faraday explained. "He sold the house to get rid of the medical debts. Other than that one other job he's gone completely off the grid."

"And now it seems much more promising," Angela said, stepping beside Faraday and opening the file to look over the picture and known facts on the man. She wanted to catch the man who had set fire to Renko's house to give her partner some measure of peace. Despite his attempts at nonchalance, he hadn't been the same since the entire mess started.

"Who's the other candidate?" Renko asked wearily.

"Asher Morden," Cooper said, holding up the other folder. "He's Darren's nephew. He has a sealed juvenile record and a list of offenses a mile long. Asher was suspected of being part of that homegrown terrorist plot with his uncle, but it was never proven."

"If that's true, he'd have reason to be angry with the two of you," Faraday said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Homicidally angry," Cooper elaborated. "The guy is nuts."

"What are the odds that Morden and McKinney served time in the same detention centre?" Angela asked, her eyes flicking up to meet those of her teammates.

"You think Morden asked for help in his revenge plot?" Cooper asked with a raised eyebrow.

Angela gave a precise shrug of her shoulders. There was nothing causal about her movements; they were always calculated. "The Fire Marshal said McKinney was the only one in the area with that MO; the statistical likelihood of someone else picking it up is dismal," Angela replied. "If not with Morden, maybe with David Wallace." Angela looked across the table at Kimi. "Can you get McKinney's address?"

The tech went to work but shook her head. "He went off the grid two years ago- no credit cards, no bank account, and no home address." Kimi frowned as she continued tapping away on her tablet.

"That's inconvenient," Angela muttered, trying to keep anger out of her voice.

"If you guys could get fingerprints from the suspects, I could run them against the print Sierra found," Kimi offered. "We might at least be able to tie someone to stealing Agent Callen's car."

Renko rotated his shoulders, trying to get the tension out. He knew that he was a good undercover; he was damn good at his job. Personal cases put the stakes at an all-time high. After all, there is nothing like a Molotov cocktail through your window to put your life in perspective. His team had talked it all out, and, for once, he kept quiet, silently taking it all in. They all asked the right questions, did the right research. They were a damn fine team, and he felt immensely grateful.

"Kimi." Renko brought himself back into the mix, mentally shaking the disturbing and distracting thoughts from his mind. "Where is it that David Wallace is still working?"

"Hyde in West Hollywood," Kimi replied quickly, happy to actually have some useful information.

Renko smiled over at Angela. This he could work with. "Looks like we're going clubbing." She looked at him blankly, a bit of horror on her face. "What?" he asked, leaning in a bit. "Do you not like to dance?"

"We're going to acquire fingerprints," Angela said sternly, her grey eyes narrowing in warning. "There will be _no_ dancing."

"You can't dance," he speculated with a smile. "Can you?"

"Let's just go," she replied, sounding agitated.

"We have to get dressed first," Renko said, his pale green eyes looking her over. He studied her choice of clothing and shook his head. "That is not going to pass at Hyde."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" She looked down at her long sleeved shirt and jeans.

"Really?" Cooper chimed in, looking her up and down, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Did you just ask that?" Renko asked, taking a little joy in her obvious discomfort. "Seriously?"

"Fine, I'll find something in wardrobe," Angela said grumpily.

"Got an address on Asher?" Renko asked, looking over at the technical operator.

"Home address," Kimi said, and both Cooper and Faraday's phones went off.

"We'll keep you updated," Cooper said as he and Faraday left the room, arguing half-heartedly about who would get to drive.

Kimi studied Angela and Renko for a minute. "Need backstopping?"

"No, we're just a couple at a club," Renko replied, smiling over at his partner. "Anonymity shall be our friend tonight."

Kimi tilted her head, and the blue streak on the underside of her hair shimmered against her dark inky locks. "You two look cute together," she said with an innocent smile. "Have fun!" She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She gave a wink and then skipped off to her section of 'play land.'

Angela looked over at Renko. "We do not look cute together," she corrected sternly. "We are not a couple. We are not going to have fun." With that, his temperamental partner turned and left the room. Renko smiled and followed her.

::

Hetty stood waiting for them in wardrobe. Renko had long since stopped asking how she knew. "We're going to Hyde," he informed her.

She nodded, giving each of the agents a once over before going to the racks. She went to the men's side first and brought over a Hugo Boss suit in a rich dark charcoal colour and a crisp white shirt. She handed the garments to Renko. "You get that on while I deal with your partner."

Renko shot Angela a smile before stepping back into the change room and closing the deep red curtains; the lack of sight didn't stop him from listening in. He attributed the impatient foot tapping to Angela.

"This will do quite nicely," Hetty said, and he peeked out to see the tiny woman holding a hanger from which a hot pink Lycra dress hung. Angela looked about ready to throw a fit when Hetty smiled. "Just kidding." Renko moved back to start undressing as he tried to keep his laughter quiet.

"That wasn't funny, Lange," Angela replied coolly.

"Hetty," the small woman corrected softly. "You can call me Hetty, you know."

"It's a habit," Angela responded. "Is there a difference? You stopped calling me The Angel of Mercy, but that's a mouthful so I can see why. Hetty or Lange, does it matter?"

"Calling someone by their last name is rather informal." Hetty said, and Renko could hear the sound of the hangers sliding across the bars. "You used codes for your team members and last names for those you got orders from. I understand the behavioural patterns and the expectations you had, but you aren't in the same situation anymore."

"I call Mike, 'Renko'," Angela defended. "I call Ryan, 'Cooper' and Noah, 'Faraday'; none of them have a problem with it."

Hetty laughed. "You scare your teammates."

With the suit pants on, Renko sneaked another peek in time to see Angela give a shrug of her shoulders. "Perhaps having them be scared is for the best."

"Another time," Hetty said wistfully, holding up a dress that had long sleeves to cover her identifying and likely memorable tattoos. Renko still didn't know what that half sleeve was comprised of, having only caught a glimpse of it when he'd been shot and she'd used her shirt to ebb the bleeding. His eyesight had been fuzzy before he'd passed out, and after that she'd kept them covered. The length of the dress wasn't that much longer than the sleeves, and the thought of his long legged partner in the tight black number had his pulse racing. He was a little surprised by his own reaction and ducked back to put his shirt on.

"Now is not then," Angela replied, taking the dress.

"Exactly. So here and now, I am Hetty."

"As you wish," Angela responded with disinterest.

"Sit," Hetty demanded. "We must do something about your hair."

Angela made an annoyed sound. "First, it's how I dress, now it's my hair." Renko peeked back through the small space to see her sit down on the stool that was made to stand on. Angela's knees came up to her collarbone, and she looked unimpressed as Hetty pulled the elastic from her hair.

Renko had never seen his partner's hair down. It fell halfway down her back in waves. He wondered briefly if her hair naturally waved or if it fell like that from being in a bun all day. The deep russet colour had natural golden and copper tones. With her hair down, her profile seemed softened.

He buttoned up the vest and realized Hetty hadn't given him the jacket. Vanity had him checking the mirror. He adjusted the end of the vest and pushed his hair back. He opened the curtain. Both women looked at him, but he had his eyes on Angela. Her breath caught just a bit, and her grey eyes gave him a once over. He smirked; _I still got it_ , he thought.

"Took you long enough," Angela quipped to cover her silence, her eyes returning resolutely straight ahead.

Hetty got back to work, humming as she braided the long red hair. The braid that started up at Angela's right temple curved around the back of her skull and came down over the side of her left shoulder.

Hetty took out a wand of mascara. Angela sighed. "Is all this necessary?" Angela asked, shifting on the little stool, looking ready to bolt. "I just need to order a drink from him and take the glass into evidence."

Hetty simply smiled. "Keep your eyes open, dear."

Renko watched with interest as Hetty gussied up his obviously uncomfortable partner. Hetty didn't overdo the makeup; she kept the palette soft. She chose a coating of brown mascara, a peach colour to her eyelids, soft pink blush and a layer of clear gloss on her lips. It hadn't taken Hetty more than fifteen minutes to do both hair and makeup but it had taken the androgynous look from Angela's face and softened it back to feminine.

"There," Hetty said, content with the result, hands clasped together. Angela stood, grabbed the dress and beige pumps and walked into the change room before Hetty could decide to do anything else. The little woman smiled at Renko and then left the wardrobe area silently.

Renko waited a little impatiently as he heard her clothing being dropped unceremoniously into a pile on the floor. A few minutes later he heard the curtains rustle, and he turned to take a look at her. She stood awkwardly as she fussed with the short dress, trying to stretch it to make it longer.

Her long legs made it a little hard to concentrate. "Stand straight," Renko ordered, trying to keep his train of thought on the acceptable rails. She stood straight and still for about three seconds before her fingertips grazed the hem of the dress and she tried to stretch it further down. "Stop it," he commanded as he swatted her hands off the dress. She glared up at him, the mascara highlighting the cool look. "It's fine," he insisted. "You aren't going to be giving a show if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not so sure," she said, trying to pull it again but he swatted her hand again. "Stop that!"

He smirked. "You look fine."

"Fine?" Her hands planted on her hips. She huffed out an angry breath. "I go through all that and I look 'fine,'" she ranted. "I could have gone in jeans and a shirt and looked 'fine.'"

"You look good," he remedied, putting his hands up in surrender. "Really good," he admitted, his eyes roaming over her athletic body. He took extra time admiring her sinfully long legs only accentuated by the nude pumps. He stepped away before he did anything stupid. "I'm driving."

She slowly walked back into the change room and came out with her jacket. She pulled out the keys to the Nova and put them in his hand. "Fine," she agreed, only because she couldn't drive in the death-traps people call heels. "But we're taking my car."

He looked at the keys and smirked. "Actually…" He handed them back to her. "You wanna know one of the perks of working here?" She raised a perfectly sculpted blonde eyebrow in question. Blonde. He leaned in. "Your eyebrows are blonde."

"A perk of working here is my eyebrows being blonde." She looked at him like he was an in idiot. "You profile and watch people for a living; we've been working together for nearly five months; and you just realized that my hair is red and my eyebrows are blonde?" She stared at him for a minute, her lips hinting that she wanted to smile. "How do you get paid?"

He ignored her barb. "Well, which is your real hair colour?" He questioned. "Have I thought you a redhead all this time only to find out you're a closet blonde?"

She looked like she was fighting the urge to smack him. "Both are natural. How many natural redheads have you met? My hair is red, my eyebrows are blonde, that's just the way it is." She rolled her eyes. "Now, get to the perks before I hit you."

"Oh, yeah," he said, shaking his head clear. "Do you want to see what I get to drive for high end covers, like, for instance, selling us as a couple at a high end club?"

This brought a mischievous smile on her face. "Is it fast?"

"Oh, yeah," Renko replied with a big smile.

"Is it safe?" He remembered that her car had bulletproof windows.

"Safe enough," he decided. After all, short of a tank, he couldn't think of anything safer than her Nova.

"Well, let's go," she decided. He smiled and looped his arm through hers. She glared over at him but he kept on walking, leading them to the garage.


	8. Chapter 8

Renko took care to keep hold of Angela's arm as they descended the stairs in the garage. The three-inch nude pumps elongated her legs to sinful measures that left his mouth dry, but she wobbled in them, which he found oddly endearing. She constantly looked down at her feet and would squeeze his arm a bit when she found herself slightly off balance. "Don't wear heels often?"

Angela had her eyes carefully glued to the stairs, calculating her next step. "I stand five nine, never really felt the need to wear them," Angela responded coolly. "Men get a complex with tall women."

Renko gave her legs a once-over and knew for certain he did not have such a complex. The extra height of the heels left her only an inch shorter than him. She glanced up at him. He gave her a reassuring smile.

On the landing he felt reluctant to let her go but stepped away momentarily to open the door. As Angela stepped through the opening and looked around the garage at the vehicles stored inside, she asked, "So, which is yours?"

"Well, technically, all the cars on this floor belong to NCIS," Renko said as he put an arm over her shoulder but stopped when he felt how tense she got. He stared over at his partner. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she replied shortly. Her eyes were wary when they met his. "Why?"

"You're tense," he responded, his voice soft as he started to walk, guiding her along.

"I'm not an undercover agent." Angela's words poured out quickly before she could stop herself. "I don't know how to be someone else. How do you just…" She paused, looking for the right word. She tossed her hands up in the air, a clear sign of exasperation. "How do you change everything about yourself?"

Hetty had informed him when Angela first came to OSP that she had no undercover experience. _'Everyone must start somewhere, Mr. Renko.'_ He could hear Hetty's words in his head. Then he'd wondered how it was that someone with no undercover experience got in working with the most dedicated and elite undercovers NCIS had. He still hadn't found out how she'd come to work with them, but he knew the badgering would have to wait. Besides, he didn't want to spoil the moment.

He stopped her for a moment by stepping in front of her, his hand soothing over the material covering her arm. "You're going to be just fine, Angela. I'll be right there with you. This is an easy gig. You don't have to do much lying even. You just have to ask some questions, improvise, don't tell them anything about the real you. You'll be fine," he assured, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"All I have to do is order a drink and take the glass into evidence," she paraphrased with a look of concern on her face.

"Maybe ask a few questions while you're at it."

Angela nodded and fidgeted with the braid over her shoulder. "I just want to make it clear that I'm not an undercover agent," she said before biting her lip.

He knew she had no problems with danger, so that obviously wasn't bothering her. She remained shrouded in mystery, so he doubted lying was a problem either. Nervousness that the case was resting on her seemed most likely.

"Come on, we just have to sell the fact that we're a couple to get in. I'll stay back until you're done getting a drink and questioning, then I'll come up. We'll gauge his reaction when I come over," Renko advised.

Angela gave a sharp determined nod. "Alright."

Renko gave her a quick peck on the cheek, putting a look of shock and confusion upon her face. "Don't do that," she growled, her eyes narrowing at him.

Despite the angry fire in her eyes, he couldn't help but smile. "You do realize that anytime there is a scenario for a couple to go in, that's going to be on us," Renko told her. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. "If we ever have to play off being a married couple, it'll be more than a kiss on the cheek."

She flushed, the colour blending with her hair. He couldn't help but laugh. "Shut up," she demanded and accompanied the heated words with a punch to the shoulder.

He bit his lower lip to stop the laughter. He knew he shouldn't find his partner's ire so enticing, but he did. When she got angry, she didn't hold back. Working for as long as he had in law enforcement, he couldn't help but pick people apart. It's what he did to criminals all day. He wanted to know her- where she grew up, her former lovers, social security number, grades from high school Geography. He wanted to know everything while she gave nothing. He would take his time unwinding the mystery of Angela Mercer and get a perverse kind of pleasure out of it.

"Car. Which one?" she demanded.

He knew she was trying to distract him from the blush, and he let her get away with it. He stepped behind her and lifted his arms to cover her eyes with his hands. She made a quick movement and likely would have put him into an arm bar had her heels not tripped her up. Instead he ended up catching her and pulling her close. Both froze in the sudden embrace. Angela's eyes widened marginally as she stared up at him. His breath breezed over her neck and the hairs on her arms stood on end. Both flushed with colour and neither moved.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, unable to break his gaze from hers.

Her eyes narrowed marginally. "No," she said indignantly, still in his arms.

He made sure she stood upright and balanced before he let go. "Close 'em, Ange," he insisted. "Trust me?"

That was the magic question. Did she trust him? She stared at him for a minute and then the dark lashes fell, exposing the sunset painted on her eyelids. Hetty sure had done a bang up job. So in tune with his partner, he could tell her breathing had sped up, a tell, he figured, for panic from putting control and trust into another. He covered her closed eyes with one hand. The other held her upper arm to best guide her. He maneuvered her slowly, careful with the heels, knowing how unskilled she was in them. He thought about asking Kensi give Angela some pointers.

His chest pressed to her back as they walked slowly. He stopped when they were in front of a brand-new shiny Lamborghini Aventador in pearl effect Arancio Atlas- which was Lamborghini's way of saying a light orange. Being the lead agent might give you the most paperwork, but you also get the most pimped out ride. Renko figured it all worked out, since he'd got to pick out the car. The Aventador was part sharp lines, part smooth curve. A badass V-12 engine under the hood gave the car a hell of a roar. 0-60 mph in under three seconds. He had a moment of terror at the thought of his foot-to-the-floor partner behind the wheel.

"Ready?" he whispered in her ear.

"Yes."

He removed his hand and moved so he could see her face. Her mouth gaped, her eyes widened and a gasp left her lips. A small smile turned into a goofy grin that couldn't get back under her mask.

"Pretty sweet, huh?" He said, turning to look at the car with a foolish amount of pride.

"It's gorgeous," she said, stepping forward, her hand touching the hood. "Top speed?" She asked, turning to him with an eyebrow raised.

"Two hundred and seventeen," he replied with a smirk. "And no, we aren't testing that."

He took her hand and led her over to the passenger seat. "Come on. We have work to do. You can admire the interior on our way." He opened the door and waited for her to get in. She sat down on the black and orange interior and brought her legs in. He shut the door behind her and went over to the driver's side with the key for the vehicle on a chain with the Lamborghini symbol in his hand.

He slid into the Aventador and smiled over at his partner as he started up the engine. It roared to life, and she smirked over at him. "Ready?" he asked.

She gave a nod. He switched gears and drove out of the parking garage.

::

Renko didn't want to hand over the key to the valet, but there was little choice in the matter. "Separation issues?" Angela teased. The car had seemed to put her into a good mood, which surprised him as he'd never seen her wear a smile for so long.

"That kid didn't even look old enough to drive," Renko said, putting an arm around her waist and leading her into Hyde, right past the bouncers, who didn't give them a second look despite those who had been waiting in line.

Hyde had a small capacity due to the size of the lounge. Its popularity ensured that it filled quickly. The DJ grooved behind his booth and played the songs just right to have everyone coming up on the dance floor.

Renko took a protective stance as he led Angela through the crowd. He memorized faces, looked for exits, and kept an eye out for anyone who looked too drunk. One sloshed drink and Renko knew Hetty would rip him a new one over expense reports. _Again_. Returning a damaged piece of wardrobe would never, ever, be a pleasant experience. He avoided that at all cost.

Angela handed him the earwig from her large bag- chosen to hide the glass with fingerprints- and put her own in with a resolute straightening of her spine.

"You'll be fine, but if anything happens…" He pointed to his ear. "I'll be there."

She gave a nod and made her way through the crowd to get a spot at the bar. Renko watched from a safe distance, not wanting to spook David. If the man was trying to kill both Renko and Callen, seeing one of the men he was targeting would most certainly spook him.

Angela made it up to the bar. She flagged David over with a smile and a wave. "Wine," she told him shortly. "Red."

"We've got a fine selection."

"Whatever you recommend," Angela said, her eyes following him to the wine rack.

Angela gave a scoff that only Renko could hear. He smiled; obviously David's tastes were not up to her standards.

David placed the wine glass in front of her, his fingers leaving the cup and her fingers daintily grabbing around the stem. "Thank you." She pushed over the money, flashed him a smile and walked back over to Renko, sipping the drink.

"Having a good time?" he asked, leaning against a pillar.

She rolled her eyes and finished the last bit of wine like a shot. She then made a face. "'Fine selection' my ass," she said. He pulled a bag from his pocket, and she deposited the glass inside and then put the bag into her purse.

"And now, you get to order another," Renko told her. "Go see if he was here the night the burglary went down."

She took a deep breath, turned around and walked over to the bar. She didn't have a problem with going and asking questions, but nerves still ate at her. She worried about the repercussions, not for herself, but for her partner if she were to mess up the questioning. She couldn't get a spot to sit when she managed to elbow her way up, so she leaned against the bar.

Renko watched her. He had a clear line of sight that he felt very grateful for as the dress slid up a little and she tried to tug it back down to what she thought was an acceptable length. He smirked and shook his head.

After a minute or so she was able to get David's attention again. "Another red?" David asked.

Even from the distance Renko could spot the disgust on his partner's face. He nearly laughed.

"No," she replied. "Jameson, on the rocks." She figured that whiskey would kill the flavour of the wine that lingered in her mouth.

"Coming right up," David replied as he turned to walk to the other side of the bar.

Angela kept her steely eyes on David but spoke quietly to Renko. "How do I find out if he was here? I can't just say, 'hey, where were you on the night of...'" She stopped as the man in question came back into hearing range.

"Flirt with him a bit," Renko advised her. "Keep his attention long enough to actually ask the questions."

"Busy night," she said as way of making light conversation.

Renko sighed; she was terrible at small talk.

"It is," David responded, passing her the drink. She passed him the money.

"You work here...a lot?" Angela asked, floundering out of her depth. She really hoped that Renko would say something, anything helpful.

Renko knew Angela was always calm, cool and collected in a firefight; in the middle of dangerous situations, she had proven to be invaluable. Somehow, even dressed to impress, she had a hard time keeping the suspect's eye. Perhaps next time he'd talk Hetty into a V-neck plunge. He immediately thought better of it. With the way Angela acted about the length of her skirt, she'd have a panic attack at a plunge.

"I do," David said, and Renko realized she'd gotten his attention. David's eyes had taken to studying her a little more closely now, looking her over. However, Renko knew a pretty girl in a club wasn't hard to find. She would need to keep his attention, which with her lack of the gift for gab would be difficult.

"Do you have a set schedule?" she asked. She took a sip of the whiskey and got rid of the taste of the swill he called wine. "Or whenever you can?"

"Why you askin', Sugar?"

Renko grinned and saw Angela lick her lips and capture her tongue between her teeth, likely to keep from laughing at being called her dog's name. The move seemed to work in her favour since David leaned in.

"Curiosity," Angela replied, leaning in to mirror the man's movements.

"I have a set schedule," he replied with a cocky grin. "You want me to book you into my alone time?"

"Depends on if it is good with mine," she replied coyly. "I have Tuesday's off." She took a sip of the Irish whiskey. The burglary had occurred on a Tuesday.

"I have Tuesday's off, too."

"What did you do last Tuesday?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

David's defences went up, and Renko started to make his way through the crowd. "None of your business," David growled at her. His eyes widened in shock when they met Renko's pale green ones.

The bartender turned and made a dash for it. Both agents started to move- Angela having trouble with running in the heels and both having difficulties getting through so many people.

Angela made it out the back door first and looked around, trying to get her bearings. To the right, the alley was blocked off by a chain link fence. She looked left and was nearly knocked off balance when Renko ran into her. He grabbed her by the waist, and they both fought for equilibrium. The second they were balanced they both ran to the mouth of the alleyway. Renko looked right, Angela looked left, but they'd lost him.

"Shit," Renko muttered.

"Well, he's involved," Angela said, adjusting her hemline.

"And we lost him." His fists clenched, and he bit back a string of curses.

"Maybe Faraday and Cooper had better luck." Angela crossed her fingers, hoping for the best. "Come on, at least nothing happened to the-" Her words were cut off when Renko pressed a finger to her lips.

"Don't jinx it," he warned.

She rolled her eyes as they went to get the keys from the valet.

::

"Hey! Did you find… Whoa! Are you two okay?" Renko changed his line of questioning when he saw that Faraday had an ice pack on his face, Cooper sported a bruised cheekbone and a split lip and Kimi was fussing over them both.

"You should see the other guy," Cooper said, but it lacked his usual tone of humour, too tired to put any effort into the delivery. Kimi picked up the ice pack Cooper had abandoned and put it against the bruise. "I'm fine," Cooper insisted as he put the pack back on the desk. Kimi picked it back up and pressed it against the bruise again, keeping her hand there since she knew he wouldn't hold it.

"Morden had friends," Faraday explained more helpfully. "It became a fight pretty quickly. Someone brought out a gun, and we both had to get the hell out of the way. They took off in a Ram truck, black, no plates."

"I hope you two got something," Cooper said.

"Sore feet," Angela muttered. She sat on her desk and kicked off the pumps. "David Wallace panicked when he saw Renko." She pulled out the elastic and started to take apart the braid. "He took off. By the time we got through the crowd, he was gone."

Renko leaned against his desk. "There isn't much more we can do tonight," he said. "We'll pick this up in the morning. Get some sleep." Renko needed the rest and maybe some food first. His stomach rumbled. He remembered that he had only eaten a few blueberries and a donut.

Kimi fussed over Faraday and Cooper as they grabbed their bags and continued instructing them on ice packs as they walked out.

Renko glanced over at Angela. She sat on her desk, rubbing her feet, her hair hanging down low in a mass of waves. "Do you want to pick up something to eat?"

Angela covered her mouth as she yawned. "Yeah," she agreed. She pushed away from the desk and grabbed the shoes. She walked barefoot through the office. "Food sounds good."

They met Kimi coming back their way, her face pale. "Kimi?" Renko looked at her questioningly. "You okay?"

"You know that alias you were using when you and Agent Callen took down Darren Wallace?" She asked before biting down on her lower lip.

Renko nodded. "Nicholas Smith."

"Just got an email to that address." Her ever-present tablet had been programmed to search for anything related to her team. She turned the device in her hands and passed it to him.

_"You will suffer, like I have suffered."_

He read the message out loud. Brief and to the point but there didn't need to be more. The message had the desired effect. He suppressed the fear, the knowledge, that someone had his number and passed the tablet back. "Can you track it?"

"Tried and no," Kimi frowned as she admitted failure.

Renko ruffled the Technical Operator's hair and gave her a smile. "See you tomorrow then."

"This is bad, Boss!" Kimi insisted, trying to get him to see the gravity of the situation.

"It'll be okay Kimi. It's not like this is the first guy who's wanted me dead. Likely won't be the last." Renko realized that while trying to reassure her, he might have made it worse. "Go home. Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"You better," she warned before she walked toward the Ops centre.

Angela followed Renko back to wardrobe. The partners silently changed back into their own clothes and put the borrowed clothing in the section to be cleaned. She remained silent as she followed him through OSP, outside and into the garage.

Angela did a quick check, but they were alone. She grabbed his arm and stopped him from walking further. He looked back to her, and she caught the worried look in his eyes. "You good?" she asked, despite the fact that she already knew the answer.

"Fine."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "You can lie all you want, but I know better."

"It's just a bad day," Renko replied. He sighed. "Okay, a series of bad days." He continued walking through the garage and had the nagging feeling that it was going to get worse.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading :D

Renko looked out the window of the living room of his partner's place early the next morning. Angela had stayed up late finishing the drywall. He'd offered to help, but she had refused. When he had tried insisting, she geared up for a fight so he backed down. When he'd woken, he'd had another post-it stuck to the bedroom door. 'Gone for a jog, will bring back breakfast.' Brief and to the point, just like the last one, and again, unsigned.

He had difficulties sleeping the night before. The job had a way of eating at him. Some nights the tendrils of fear wrapped around you so suffocatingly tight you just have to breathe through it. He fought it off, kept it at bay, but it hadn't been easy. He'd lost his home; it had been eaten by malicious flames. If he'd gone home, he'd be dead.

He heard nails on the stairs, followed by quick footsteps. The door opened, and Sugar bounded over to his side in a second. The dog sat and kept nudging his hand with her nose, her tail thumping excitedly against the floor.

"I got breakfast sandwiches," Angela said, putting the paper bag down on the dust-covered counter. She hadn't had time to clean after her latest round of renovations. She studied her partner from across the room for a second, noting the tight lines in his posture. Instinctively, she mirrored his pose. "You good?"

"Fine," Renko responded with a small shrug.

Angela watched and waited a moment. She studied his tense body language but found no indication of an immediate threat. "Okay, I'm going to shower."

She walked past him, but he didn't turn to watch her. He heard the rustle of the fabric separating the finished back rooms from the dusty open-concept living space. A few minutes later he heard the water go on. With a sigh, he grabbed the bag of breakfast sandwiches and gave Sugar a piece. "Don't tell Ange," he told the dog.

Sugar beat her tail against the floor, her tongue hanging out in a parody of a smile.

::

Cooper and Faraday still looked like hell when Renko and Angela entered the office. The bruising on Cooper's face had only gotten worse, and he had dark circles under his eyes that reflected the fact he hadn't slept. Faraday had gotten off a bit easier; the awful yellow green colour of his bruise had already started to fade.

"Did you use the ice?" Kimi asked worriedly, inspecting Cooper's face.

"Yes," Cooper responded in an agitated tone. The agent looked wary and annoyed. "It's a bruise, Kimi. I'm fine."

"You look like you went a round with a two by four," Kimi argued with her hands on her hips. "And did you sleep?"

Cooper let out a groan, folded his arms on the desk and rested his head. "Boss, put Kimi to work so she'll stop hovering!"

Renko smiled. His agent looked annoyed but he could see the affection between the two. Kimi would remain worried until the bruising completely went away and would continue to fuss.

"Kimi, go do what it is that you do," Renko said half-heartedly as he tossed his go bag down by his desk.

"I already did what it is that I do," Kimi responded, sticking her tongue out at him. "And here is what I got. We know that the sketch doesn't match David Wallace- the son, but I finally got a picture of Asher Morden- the nephew; it's a match. The man who at least rented the car that was used when yours and Agent Callen's files were taken is Asher Morden."

Renko perked up at this. Finally, something he could work with. "We'll need to bring him in."

"Good luck with that," Cooper grumbled, his head still resting on his arms. Kimi's hand soothed over his hair, and he peeked up at her. She gave him a compassionate smile and then dug in her side bag for a bottle of painkillers. She set them on his desk with a wink. A little smile touched his lips, and he gave her a wink in thanks.

"We can also tack on the assault of two federal agents," Angela said, leaning back against her desk.

"Please do," Cooper insisted.

"We're going to need Morden to find McKinney," Faraday said logically. He sat back and rubbed his chin. "The firebug's completely off the grid."

"First, we need to find Morden. I doubt he'll be returning home now," Renko said. He turned to the team's technical operator. He relied on the little woman, and she never let them down. "Kimi?"

"I've put a BOLO on his car, not to mention it's running through Kaleidoscope," Kimi responded. "I've also tagged his bank account and credit cards. He uses anything related to his name and I'll have him." As if on cue, her tablet chimed and she smiled. "Just used his credit card to open a tab at a bar in Hollywood." Kimi got a mischievous grin on her face. She bounced on her toes and held the tablet close to her chest. "It's time to play _Guess This Bar_!"

"The Hudson?" Faraday guessed as he leaned back in his chair.

"Nope." Kimi shook her head, her dark hair swinging with the movement.

"Avalon?" Renko ventured.

Kimi shook her head, her locks whipping back and forth once again. "Think more of a dive."

Cooper looked up and studied Kimi's face, particularly her smile. He grinned and lifted his head. "It's the Happy Ending, isn't it?"

Kimi laughed and skipped over, planting a kiss on his uninjured cheek. "Gold star!"

"I don't have to get dressed up," Angela said, looking over at her partner, her eyes guarded and apprehensive. "Right?"

"What?" Renko said with a grin. "You didn't like the pink Lycra?"

Her eyes narrowed into a glare.

::

Angela had to stop on their way to fill up the Nova with gas. Cooper and Faraday had driven a second vehicle and would be meeting them there. Angela got back into the car, and it started up with a roar.

"Maybe we should have gone with the Lexus." Renko suggested. "Fuel efficiency."

"Not until you're out of harm's way... well, out of the sniper's scope anyway," Angela responded, knowing full well that as an agent you were never out of harm's way. She flicked her blinker on and merged back in with the flow of traffic. "He'll likely have friends there," she mused out loud.

"But so will we," Renko responded. He had every confidence that his team would be able to handle the situation and bring Morden in.

"Cooper said there were at least another five guys with Morden." Angela slammed on the brakes and hit the horn when someone cut her off. "We'll likely be outnumbered."

"Does that bother you?" Renko asked.

Angela's lips pressed tightly together. "We have to bring them in." He watched the small rise and fall of her shoulders. "I'm guess I'm not used to that."

"What was it you were involved in?" Renko couldn't help the spike of curiosity. He got little pieces, fragmented clues of her past, and it left him hungry for more.

"Doesn't matter," Angela responded as she pulled into the parking lot of the Happy Ending. "Let's hope for a happy ending in all this."

Renko stared at her. Her lips were twitching. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"

"No," Angela responded with a little shake of her head.

::

"How do you want to play it?" Cooper asked Renko while he leaned against his blue BMW.

"How about we go in an arrest him for assault on a federal agent, and we can work on questioning him in relation to stolen government information and arson?" Renko suggested as he surveyed the parking lot.

"Sounds good," Cooper said, taking a step away from his vehicle and adjusting his coat to cover his Glock.

Together the team entered The Happy Ending Bar and Restaurant and started scanning the crowd. "Who knew it would be so busy this early?" Faraday said with a shake of his head.

"It's five o'clock somewhere," Cooper responded.

The bar was large and spanned nearly the entire building. People were sitting at tables and chatting loudly. The place had an eighties feel, likely never renovated. Too busy to just spot Morden. "Split up," Renko muttered under his breath and immediately the pairs separated, Cooper and Faraday taking the right side, Renko and Angela the left.

Renko stuck close to his partner as they walked between rows of tables. His eyes scanned the area. He felt his partner tense beside him, her arm brushing against his. "Got him," Angela said, nodding her head in the direction. Renko followed her guidance and found the man of the hour. They walked over to where Asher Morden sat with six others.

"Asher Morden?" Renko said. The man looked up. He seemed surprised and then rather cocky. Renko caught sight of Faraday and Cooper walking closer. Renko smiled and nodded his head toward them. "You remember my associates?"

Asher looked angry and stood. The rest of the men at his table stood, too. Renko had only said six words, but that is all it took to start an all-out bar fight.

Renko had great instincts, and he had a well of knowledge and skill in martial arts. His exceptional skills in hand-to-hand combat were invaluable, especially since he had to relinquish his gun for many covers.

The first fist he threw clipped one of the men under the chin. The guy's teeth snapped together, and he crumpled to the ground, down for the count. Another jumped right in and started to throw fists. Renko deflected, dodged and waited patiently for his moment to strike. He knew that being overeager in a fistfight usually ends up with you being on your back.

His concentration broke when a table to his left broke. He'd glanced over to see Angela dazed on the ground. He watched as she struggled to get up and didn't have time to warn her before the man delivered a vicious kick to her ribs. A pained howl escaped her lips and the sound of his partner in pain tore through him.

Renko couldn't do anything since a fist connected with his jaw and sent him careening backwards. His back hit a table. He regained his balance and brought his arms back up, but Cooper had the man he had been fighting in a chokehold. Renko took a quick assessment of the other two agents. Faraday was holding his own, but Angela couldn't manage to get to her feet and now just focused on trying to deflect the kicks.

Renko moved quickly to defend his partner. He grabbed the man's arm, did a quick turn and had the satisfaction of hearing it pop out of joint. He pulled downward on the dislocated arm as his leg swooped down and knocked the man's legs out from under him. He held the man on the ground

"Ange?" He called out to her, his voice stern and angry.

She didn't respond, and her silence pushed fear through him. He turned the man over and cuffed him before he risked a look at his partner. She had her arms crossed tightly over her ribs and her lips were pressed into a hard line. Her skin had gone a shade or two whiter. He looked over at the rest of his team. Cooper restrained the other men and seemed to have fared well in the fight. Faraday looked like he'd taken a few hits to the face and moved gingerly, which told Renko of unseen injuries.

"Called in a transport van," Cooper said on his way by Renko. Cooper crouched down beside Renko and looked at Angela. "Lemme see." His voice was insistent but soft. He touched her arm. She swatted at him but the move didn't have any strength and spoke of the pain she suffered with. "Come on, Angela," Cooper insisted, grabbing her arm again. "You know I was once a combat medic." She looked at him, and he coaxed her to move her arms enough so that he could pull up the hem of her shirt. "I did two years stationed in Kandahar," Cooper said, his hand skimming over the female agent's skin as Renko hovered over them. He pressed, and her entire body stiffened, her hands balled into fists, but she didn't cry out. "They're not broken," Cooper said, his voice low. "Bruised, maybe fractured. Should have an x-ray done."

"Call it in," Renko decided as agents from the detainment transport van came in. "I'll take her."

Cooper nodded and squeezed Angela's shoulder once. "You'll be fine, safer with him driving your car than you behind the wheel," he teased with a smile. She glared at him.

"Keys?" Renko said, crouching down next to her. She made no effort to move, but he could see the bulge of them in the pocket of her pants and reached in carefully to pull them out. "Want me to carry you?" His comment got her to move. Her arms released her sides, and she rolled slightly, a pained gasp escaping her lips as she got to her knees. "I've got you," he said, helping her up to her feet.

::

"Why does this keep happening to you two?" Kimi asked when she saw the male set of partners walk in. She stepped between them, hooked her arms through theirs and dragged them toward the kitchen area. "Where's the boss? Where's Angela?"

"Mike's taking Angela to the doctor," Cooper said. Despite the fact that both men were much bigger than the tiny Kimi, they followed her lead. She left them standing in the kitchen while she opened the freezer, an entire section dedicated to gelly icepacks. She passed one to each of the men and gave them a look that said 'AND USE IT!' so they did.

"I have three reports to write before Hetty finds me," Faraday said as he held the ice pack first to his ribs. He held in a groan, but the ice started working its numbing action and he sighed. "Text me if you guys hear anything."

Kimi watched Faraday walk out of the little kitchen before she turned back to Cooper. "Was she hurt badly?" Kimi asked as she pulled herself up to sit on the counter.

Cooper shrugged. "She got thrown through a table. Luckily it was a cheap table so it just dazed her a bit." His lips pressed into a grim line. He didn't understand men who used violence against women. "The guy kicked the hell out of her ribs and left one hell of a bruise," he said, remembering the redness, already turning purple, on Angela's incredibly pale skin. "Might be some fractured ribs. I sent them to get it checked out."

"That's right," Kimi said, sitting a little straighter. "You were a combat medic."

"Yeah," Cooper said, leaning his back against the table across from her. His mind continued to process everything, but he got no closer to an answer. "Okay, so let me run through this."

"I'm a soundboard," Kimi said with a sharp nod that caused him to smile.

"David runs when he sees Renko, but thus far, we have nothing that can tie him to anything," Cooper said as he moved the icepack a little bit lower on his face. "Asher Morden we can tie to renting the car, but the rest is circumstantial."

"We also have him for the assault of federal agents," Kimi said and Cooper nodded. "And carrying without a permit!"

"Nice work." Cooper shot her a grin.

She tucked some of her hair behind her ear and smiled. "Thanks."

"And we have McKinney," Cooper continued, "Who we can't find and can't tie to the arson other than the fact that he has the same MO."

"True." Kimi pouted. "I can't find him anywhere! Who doesn't leave virtual footprints these days?"

Both stayed quiet for a minute as they mulled over their thoughts. Cooper dropped his icepack to the table. "If we can't find McKinney now, we should start looking back to when we last could find him. Addresses then, who he knew, maybe even who visited him in prison. Maybe he's staying with a friend."

Kimi's eyes lit up. "Good thinking." She pushed off the counter top. She looked at him and then the icepack and raised an eyebrow at him. He slowly picked it back up and put it back to his face. She took a few steps toward him and pouted slightly. "You okay? Really?"

He gave her a small smile to soothe the worry in her voice. "I'm fine, Kimi," Cooper responded.

She wrung her fingers and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "You look like you're in pain."

"That's just my face swelling," he managed to say with a straight face.

She shook her head. "Men," she muttered as she walked out of the room.

::

"How is she, Mr. Renko?" Hetty asked as she walked up to Renko in the hospital waiting room.

"They have her prepped, but the doctor won't take her in until he has her medical file," Renko said. He heard the betrayal of agitation in his voice. Hetty raised an eyebrow at his tone but said nothing. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you bring it?"

Hetty pulled out a thin file from her large bag. "Of course."

"Kind of small," Renko noted. He once got a look at his file on Hetty's desk, nearly an inch thick, full of paper, colour coded dividers with things like 'background,' 'medical,' and 'languages' written on them.

The doctor walked over, interrupting any further conversation. "Is that Miss Mercer's?" He pointed at the file.

Hetty nodded and handed the file over. The man opened it and confusion altered his expression. "It's all blacked out."

"Not the parts you need," Hetty argued. "Take care of my agent, Doctor." The doctor looked annoyed but took the file down the hall. "Call me with an update. I need to be getting back to the office," Hetty said, turning and walking out the doors.

Renko stood alone in the waiting room wondering what the hell had gotten redacted in Angela's medical file.


	10. Chapter 10

Renko had signed Angela's release papers. Her ribs were badly bruised. Nothing was broken, but one of her ribs had a hairline fracture, so the doctors ordered her to take it easy. She hadn't put up a fight when they insisted on the wheelchair protocol and that worried him. "You good?" he asked as he wheeled her outside.

"No," she responded miserably as she lightly crossed her arms over her chest. "I got my ass handed to me. I'm not 'good'; I'm pissed." She dug both of her heels into the tarmac. He had to stop. She stood slowly, holding her ribs. She let out a breath and focused on her anger rather than her pain. She held out her hand. "Hand over the keys."

He shook his head. "You're not driving." His eyes narrowed, and he prepared for her to give him a hard time about the order.

"No, but you have to return the wheelchair and I want to sit down." She made the 'gimme' motion with her hand.

He studied her for any sign that she might be lying to him. Mostly, she just looked tired. Reluctantly he handed over the keys. She turned and slowly started to walk toward the car. He turned the wheelchair around and quickly walked it back inside. Long, quick strides led him back outdoors where the sun beamed down and birds in the nearby trees chirped happily. A beautiful day that managed to feel dark and heavy with his partner injured. He crossed the lot but paused when the Nova came into view. She sat on the passenger's side, chewing on her thumbnail, her grey eyes staring off blankly. He wished she would stop being so stubborn and just take the pain medication they'd picked up at the pharmacy even though she'd rolled her eyes at it. Her eyes focused and turned to him. Slightly embarrassed about being caught staring he finished the walk to the car and got in.

She turned to him and dangled the keys from her fingertips. He stared at her for a long moment, not taking the keys. She eyed him back with a curiosity that turned into wariness. "What?" she asked.

"The doctor was pretty surprised when Hetty delivered your medical file," Renko said, finally taking the keys from his partner. "Part of it has been redacted." Her steel grey eyes hardened, her lips pressed into a hard line. He knew he was treading on thin ice. "What's redacted, Ange?"

"If it were any of your business, it wouldn't be redacted," Angela responded through clenched teeth.

He studied her in silence. He could see her anger in the line of her lips, the way her eyebrows drew down. "Don't you trust me?"

"Trust that you don't need to know," Angela responded.

Pain in her eyes and in her voice had him relenting. He couldn't distinguish if the line of questioning or her ribs were what caused it but he didn't wish to add to it. "Alright," Renko relented as he jammed the key in the ignition and started the car. "Are you okay to work, or do you want me t-"

"I can work," Angela cut him off quickly and went back to staring out her window.

Renko knew better than to even ask. As team leader he'd really like to just sideline her but he that wasn't the smartest move. Angela was too damn stubborn for her own good, and he figured it would be best to have her close where he could keep an eye on her.

::

"Miss Mercer," Hetty called as Angela and Renko walked into the office. "A word."

Angela jumped like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar and tried to play it off by immediately walking toward the office. Renko watched his partner walk into Hetty's open office space before he jogged up the stairs. He found his team in the Ops centre- Faraday going over files and Cooper hovering over Kimi at her computer terminal. "What do we have?" he asked.

"How's Angela?" Cooper asked in return. He left Kimi at her terminal and joined the field agents at the table.

"Bruised, in pain." He ran his fingers over the files. "Grumpier than usual," he muttered.

"Oh, great," Cooper muttered in reply, sitting down on a stool.

"Have we found McKinney?" Renko asked.

"Kimi and I have been going through prison records- specifically, visitor logs- trying to find out if there is anyone he might be staying with." Cooper said. "Still working on it."

"I've been going over Morden's file for the interrogation," Faraday said. "He was pretty cocky when we brought him in. He thinks he can beat this."

"He's cocky, and he's stupid," Renko said. "He opened a tab at a bar with his credit card after assaulting two federal agents. He's a dumb ass."

"Or he knows something we don't know," Cooper said. "He was under the microscope for being a homegrown terrorist, and he beat that." He remained quiet while he thought it over. "Kimi," he called out. "Find out who Morden's lawyer was!"

"You got it!" Kimi responded. She walked over, tapping away on her tablet. "Jonathon Ross was the lawyer. He's done dozens of high profile cases." She frowned. "His success rate is eighty-nine percent."

"The name sounds familiar," Faraday noted.

"Should," Kimi said. "You guys remember the case..." Kimi looked at her tablet for a minute, collecting herself. "Jonathon Ross defended that arms dealer on a case we had a year ago." Kimi bit her lip. "Got him off with a hundred and two hours of community service." Kimi put the tablet down on the table. "I have to use the little girl's room." With that, she left. Cooper got up without a word and followed her.

The name still didn't sound familiar and neither did the case. "Ross?" Renko asked curiously, looking to Faraday for answers.

Faraday shrugged the weight of the past off. "It was a case we were working back when Holden was still alive."

Holden Merlow had been the Senior Agent-In-Charge before Renko. Renko studied Faraday, who at the time of the sniper attack had tried to get to the already deceased Merlow but Renko had held him down. They'd all lost a brother in arms one week from his retirement, and it didn't sit well with any of them.

::

"You okay?" Cooper asked when Kimi emerged from the washroom. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her nose wasn't fairing much better.

"Fine," she responded sadly.

"It's okay to miss him," Cooper said softly as other workers passed. "We all do."

"I know," Kimi whispered. "The job is dangerous. Remembering how quickly his life was just taken…" She released a shaky breath. "It's scary when you guys leave the building; I'm never sure if you're all going to make it back." The fear sometimes built to such levels she didn't think she'd be able to conquer it. The longer she worked with the team, the more attached she got, the more unbearable the outcome felt. The fear that became reality when Holden Merlow died only proved that none of them were invincible. Any day of the week, one of them might not come back home. Tears burned her eyes yet again and she fought for control. She didn't want Cooper to see her weak and blubbery, but she couldn't help the small sob that escaped.

His thumb gently swept over her cheekbone to wipe away a tear. "Hey," Cooper said as she started to tremble and cry. Seeing her so openly vulnerable he couldn't help but pull her against his chest and hold her in his arms. "It's okay, Kimi," he reassured, his hand running over her long dark hair.

She enjoyed the warmth of the embrace, the safety in his arms. She did her best to pull herself together, not wanting to embarrass herself further. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," he told her kindly. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he cursed bad timing.

"You should get that," she mumbled. She would have happily stayed in his arms but they were at work and she felt pretty sure that, while they flirted, she held the majority of the feelings and he held all the cards. She knew that he flirted with all the women; the easy-going charmer broke hearts wherever he went. They were just friends. She pulled out of his arms. "You should get that," she repeated.

Cooper checked his phone. Boatshed. He cursed Renko's timing. Interrogation time. "I have to go, Kimi," he told her. He used his thumbs to dry the tears under her eyes. "I'll be back." He gave her a quick grin and walked away.

"Hey, Ryan," she called and he looked back at her over his shoulder. She shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling nervous with his eyes on her. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he responded with a smile that left her heart fluttering.

::

"I want my lawyer," Morden said the second they walked into the room.

"You sure about that?" Renko asked, acting casual. "Maybe we can work out a deal."

"I want my lawyer," Morden responded, with the audacity to smirk.

Renko and Cooper looked at each other with matching frowns. They walked out of interrogation and joined Angela and Faraday down the hall. "He lawyered up, big surprise," Cooper muttered before he sat down on the table.

"Let me have a go at him," Angela said as she walked by them.

"He said he wante-" Renko called but the door shut and he sat down to look at the screen.

"So they send in the lady cop?" Morden said, looking her over and sighing. "You ain't much to look at."

"Ten bucks says before this is over she punches him in the face," Cooper said.

"My ten is on her foot to his groin," Faraday said.

"I have a bad feeling that, before all this is over, Hetty's going to be ripping me a new one," Renko muttered. He stared at the screen as she picked up her chair and shoved it under the door handle. "Oh, shit."

"Don't want anyone interrupting us?" Morden asked with his signature smirk.

"Why Renko and Callen?"

"Who?" he asked with a smile.

Angela moved to stand across from Morden. "Is it because you're pissed that they put away your uncle, Darren Wallace?"

"Honey, I said I want my lawyer."

"I don't give a shit what you want," Angela responded, slamming both her hands down on the table. "What I want is to know is where your friend McKinney is."

"He flinched," Faraday said, leaning in. "McKinney is definitely a part of this."

"Don't know no McKinney."

"Michael Renko, the man whose file you stole, is my partner." Angela's hand went to the back of her jeans.

"Oh, shit," Renko repeated.

She pulled out her gun and cocked the Smith and Wesson. "You had McKinney burn down his house; you had him try to kill my partner." She took a step back and aimed directly for Morden's head.

"You're crazy."

"You have no idea," Angela responded.

Renko ran to the room and started banging on the door. "Ange! Open the door."

"No." Angela responded simply. "Where is McKinney?"

"You can't do this!" Morden said, standing but stuck with his hands still cuffed together.

"You'd be surprised," Angela said, moving her gun just slightly to the right and firing.

"Guys!" Renko yelled.

"He's still breathing," Cooper yelled back.

"Where is McKinney?"

"You can't use this in court," Morden said.

"Does it look like I want this to see court?" Angela responded, firing to the left of his head this time.

"Okay!" Morden screamed. "I'll give you the address where he's staying!"

Angela smiled and put her gun away. "See? Was that so hard?" She put down a pen and a pad of paper. Morden scribbled the address and pushed it over at her.

"You'll go to jail for this," Morden said.

Angela shot him a smile before she walked across the room, removed the chair and exited the room, only to find herself chest to chest with her partner. "Are you crazy?" he asked, reaching past her to shut the door.

She thrust the paper into his hand. "I'll deal with the consequences of my actions. I always have." She moved past him and walked down the hall. "We need to move on McKinney. Morden's lawyer will be here soon, and my bet is that Ross will warn our firebug."

"I have to inform Hetty of this," Renko shouted. Stress while undercover he could handle no problem but his partner going against the OSP's rules of conduct while in their own filmed interrogation room had him in a panic. "None of this can be used!"

"If we don't find that firebug and place him at your house, this entire case is going to fall apart. We can't link any of them to anything. McKinney is the weak link," Angela insisted. "Let's move."

::

"Pizza!" Cooper called out, holding a box in his hand.

Jesse McKinney opened the door, a bag of Skittles in his hand. "I didn't order no pizza, man."

"I didn't order my house burnt down," Renko said from the side, making the man jump. "But I got it anyway." McKinney's eyes widened at the sight of the agents and he dropped the bag of candy, colourful treats scattering on the deck.


	11. Chapter 11

The moment that the team had McKinney secured in an interrogation room, Hurricane Hetty blew into the boatshed, leaving no room for the team to run for cover. "Lawyer Jonathan Ross has already made calls to the Director concerning your stunt." Her eyes zeroed in on Angela. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that unless we get to McKinney and fast, either Renko or Callen or both could be dead." Angela folded her arms over her chest defensively. "Besides, I didn't actually shoot him; although, frankly, that would have solved a few of our problems."

Hetty shut her eyes and tried to get a grip on her anger. OSP ran like clockwork. Rarely did it derail so completely, and when it did she always felt a bit to blame. These were her agents. This was her operation and she would regain control of the situation. "You're out of line, Miss Mercer."

The men on the team watched the two women like they were following a ball during a tennis game and yet with the kind of interest one watches a train wreck. They knew it wasn't going to end well, but they had to see the outcome anyway.

Angela gave a calculated shrug of her shoulders. "McKinney's our firebug, we had to find him. I don't have the size to intimidate," she jerked her shoulder and smiled, "But I do have very good aim."

Hetty took a deep breath before she sadly shook her head. "I can't let you work this case any longer-"

Angela's entire body tightened and she stood at attention. "Lange!"

"Angel of Mercy!" Hetty shouted. "Home. Now. Those are orders."

The men watched in horror. Hetty never shouted. She rarely ever raised her voice.

Angela tipped her head up just slightly, the gesture both arrogant and angry. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened. She grabbed her coat and turned heel, exiting the building.

"Woah," Cooper whispered.

Faraday blinked owlishly. "What just happened?"

"That, Mr. Faraday, was a woman who is very lucky she's not suspended from duty, although if the director has his way, she will be." Hetty let out a sigh. "I have another team taking over." The protests were immediate; all three men were pleading their case until silenced by Hetty, who simply raised her hand. "Enough. I know you don't like it but deal with it. With Angela's stunt I don't have a choice but to pull you." Hetty rubbed the bridge of her nose and wished for a good cup of chamomile tea. "Mr. Renko, get her working with you, or I won't be able to protect her for much longer."

Aggravated by the cloak of secrecy every bit as much as being taken off the case, he had to keep a firm grip on his temper. "Why does she need your protection?"

Hetty shook her head. "It's not my place to say."

Temper shook on its leash. "Hetty!"

"I heard Granger is returning to us," Hetty said. "How much do you want to bet he'll be looking into Angela? If you can't get her to follow your lead than this witch hunt will end up with her burnt at the stake!" She adjusted her suit jacket as the quiet calmed the room. "Go home. There will be a new case for the five of you tomorrow, provided that you've gotten your partner under control, Mr. Renko."

Renko, Cooper and Faraday stood in shock for a few minutes as Hetty walked out much calmer than she'd come in. Cooper sat down on the table and ran a hand through his dark wavy locks. "Well, I guess we should go and find Angela."

"I'll go," Renko said. "This is on me if it doesn't work." He grabbed his jacket off a chair and put it on. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Yeah, if you don't wash up in the Pacific," Faraday muttered. "Are you sure you don't want backup?"

"I'm ninety percent sure she won't kill me," Renko responded, pulling his keys from his pocket. And he found it odd that for her he'd risk the ten percent.

::

Feeling a little like a teenager, Renko threw rocks at her window. He'd tried the professional thing, knocking, but since she lived on the third floor either she couldn't hear him or had chosen to ignore him. He crouched to pick up more pebbles and nearly jumped when the door flew open. Angela stood in the doorway with one hand on the doorknob and the other in a fist against the doorframe like she could keep him out by blocking his way. Her grey eyes held a storm and they narrowed directly on him. "What?"

He hadn't actually thought out what he might say to her. "Hey." Brilliant, he thought, is that the best you can do? "You okay?" He nearly grimaced at his own words, bad choice he knew from the hardened look she shot at him. "Look... can I come up? My house can only be used as charcoal." He knew she had a heart in there and wouldn't leave him to sleep in his car. She turned and walked back in. The door remained open and he took it as an invitation. They both remained silent until they were on the third floor, where he knew she'd have a harder time throwing him back out. "We have to talk."

"No, we don't," she responded as Sugar looked up at him but didn't move from her spot. Renko figured she'd been given a 'stay' command and knew the highly trained dog wouldn't move until Angela gave the signal. Angela gave the 'okay' sign straight up and then rotated it down and the dog ran from her spot to Renko, then to Angela, then back to Renko and back to Angela, where she nuzzled into the woman's leg and whined, obviously sensing something wrong.

"Yes, we do," Renko insisted. He didn't want to push but he knew that he would have to fight with Angela to get her to see reason. "Granger, the Assistant Director of NCIS, is coming back! That stunt you pulled in the boatshed has gotten the entire team kicked off the case!"

"What?" Angela spun around, fury written all over her face. "How could Lange do that?"

"Hetty, her name is Hetty, and she said she won't be able to protect you if you don't learn to work with me and the team." Renko grabbed her arm and Angela pushed him, which didn't work out so well. He knew her hand to hand was lacking and easily managed to pin her up against the wall. "Enough!" She froze between him and the wall and they both stayed perfectly still for a minute, his pale green eyes staring right into the storm. Realizing the position they were in, her athletic body pressed against him, he fought to stay focused. "Enough," he said, softer this time. "You going to hit me if I let you go?"

"Maybe," she responded quickly.

"Maybe you just want me to hold you like this," Renko said, the words slipping from his mouth before he thought them through. Her cheeks became a pale pink and, considering how close they were, he could feel the increase of breath. It pleased him that she appeared to be enjoying the lack of personal space.

"Let me go," she said calmly.

His eyes narrowed. She never reacted with such calm, and he was a little afraid she'd knee him in the groin. "Why?"

"Please?" She looked up at him, something in her eyes that he wasn't used to seeing there- vulnerability. Figuring it was safe he slowly let go of her wrists and moved back half a step. "Why are you here?"

"Because we've got to work this out," Renko responded. "Before Granger gets here."

"Why?"

For such a smart woman, she could be dense at times. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Seriously? Because you could lose your job. And the protection you get from Hetty. Which I have to ask, what the hell is that about?"

"No," Angela shook her head. "I mean, why do you care? If I leave, you'll get a new partner, a better partner." His eyebrows shot up and she scoffed. "Come on." Her hands planted on her hips. "I'm well aware that I'm not the easiest person to work with."

Silence hung between them for a moment while he mulled the question over. "Because you have a dog named Sugar," Renko replied finally, deciding honesty might get her to open up.

Something about her stirred something in him. He could see past her mask, past the hardened woman she portrayed, and sensed that behind all her defenses lay something worth the time and effort to discover. He bit his bottom lip as he weighed his options and decided to simply lay it all down, let her see his cards.

"Because you have a thing for horsepower." He put up a hand when she opened her mouth. "Don't deny it." He smirked; the thought of his partner with mile long legs in that dress in front of the Lamborghini slammed into his mind. "Because you saved my life." He could remember the fear in her eyes, the raw panic as she worked to save him. "Because you sat at my bedside for three days." He remembered her sleeping form being curled up in an impossible position over two chairs in his hospital room when he woke. "Because you cared enough to do that for me." He stepped closer but maintained the breathing room between them. "I'll be here for you."

She stared and after a long minute she let out an irregular breath. "What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with something easy," he suggested. "How did you meet Hetty?"

Angela sighed, turned and grabbed a bottle of red wine from the fridge and two glasses. "I was working with my team in Iraq." She poured the first glass and passed it to Renko. Her hands trembled and she set down the bottle for a second. "I have to start this earlier." With a white knuckled grip, she grabbed the bottle and poured her own glass. She pushed both bottle and glass to the other side and walked around to join him, sitting on the stool next to Renko. "Believe it or not, I started as a hostage negotiator with San Francisco PD."

Renko's jaw dropped a little, eyes widened. Angela? The most out of control, volatile person he knew worked as a hostage negotiator? A person whose job it is to keep others calm! "Really?"

She took a sip of wine and then a gulp before setting it down. "I was really good at it at one point. Tactically, I had studied at Quantico, broken a couple of records."

"Now that I believe," Renko said. He tasted the wine and imagined the fine bottle cost more than he made in a week.

She smiled, just a little. "With my tactical training and my skills as a negotiator, I was recruited into a Black Ops unit. There I became the Angel of Mercy; I negotiated for the release of P.O.W's."

He turned in his seat and studied the sharp angles of her profile. "We don't negotiate."

"No," Angela agreed, swirling the wine, lost in thought. "I was basically a professional stall tactic until someone could get a clean shot. Those weren't the only cases that we did. There were other associates- other members of the team- who were there, like me, because of a specific skill set. We also did sabotage missions, intelligence gathering, and tactical advancement." She took a sip of her wine, set it down on the counter and turned in her seat to face him. "Now to answer your question. Lange and I met in Iraq. One of her undercover agents had gotten burned and captured; the men who'd taken him wanted money, lots of it. Lange just wanted her man back."

"You negotiated."

Angela nodded once. "I gained their trust, brought in two suitcases. The three men assumed the cases were filled with money." She paused to take a deep breath as the memory washed over her mind. "I opened the suitcases. They were salivating at the thought of the cash within. Instead, inside was my gun. Three shots, they were all dead and her man came home." She drank the rest of her wine in two gulps and reached for the bottle. "She told me to collect anytime. So I did."

"To join NCIS."

Angela nodded and poured herself another glass of wine. "Needed somewhere to go," her voice became quiet as pain trickled in. "After my team was killed."

Renko looked at her, at the agony in the depths of her eyes. "Killed?" Bad orders, he remembered her saying.

"Housekeeping," she growled. "No one believes me, but the comms went down, the intelligence was all wrong. I tried, I tried!" Her teeth clenched together as angry tears rolled down her face. "The comms were down."

The pain in her voice moved him. He couldn't bear her great anguish. Moving purely on instinct, he set down the wine glass and pulled her from her stool and into his arms. A second later, her arms wrapped around his neck; her entire body trembled with the force of her grief.

He'd heard the phrase 'housekeeping' before. An agency that 'cleaned house' killed off their own agents in an 'accident.' Of course, it remained unproven; no one believed it. Agents wouldn't be very loyal if they figured the people they worked for would kill them off in the end. Obviously, Angela believed that the agency she'd worked for cleaned house. If they thought she was a loose end, then the only way to be protected would be working for another agency. Hetty's protection.

Her constant questioning of orders suddenly made sharp sense. "You figured out the intelligence was wrong."

Alarmed with how close they were, she took a step back. Her knees trembled and she quickly sat down on the stool. "Yes," she whispered. Feeling jittery, she took another sip of wine, hoping it would calm her nerves. "Heat signatures for the area, building size, street maps. Everything was just wrong. The agency denies ever giving the orders."

"But you heard them," he pried.

She shook her head. "The Harbinger took the orders; he was team leader."

Renko's eyebrows rose. "Harbinger?"

"That's what I knew him as. None of us had names," Angela explained. "We relinquished them when we signed on."

"So... is..."

"Angela Mercer my real name?" She filled in and shook her head. "It's who I am now, though."

"What was it?" Renko couldn't help his curiosity. "Your real name?"

She scoffed and took a sip of wine. "It doesn't matter anymore." Her voice hardened, signifying the topic as 'off limits.' "I relinquished the right to it when I signed on to Harbinger's team." She finished off her second glass of wine and picked up the bottle again, only able to fill her glass a third of the way with the remainder. "I think they would have killed me by now if I wasn't working for Hetty," she whispered the secret and patted her thigh. Sugar hurried over and rested her head on Angela's thigh. Angela stroked the blonde fur. "Anything else you have a burning curiosity about?"

Figuring he'd pushed into her personal past enough for one night, he let some of his questions remain unasked; he'd have another chance. "Will you work with me?"

"I do," she said, drinking the last of the wine.

"You know what I mean."

Angela remained silent for a moment, staring at the empty glass. "I literally had nothing, except my own stubbornness, left to live for, Mike. Then, there was you." The quiet hinted to secrets and the softness of her voice spoke of affection. She flicked her grey eyes over at him but the way they didn't quite meet his betrayed her nerves. "And then you got shot and I swear my heart stopped," her voice went thick with emotion. "You flat-lined in the ambulance. I don't think I'd ever been so scared in my life, and that's saying something."

"Ange," his voice tapered off as phantom pain struck his chest. He could almost feel her hands pressing into him, almost hear her telling him to hold on. His heart pounded and he found it harder to breathe. There had never been a woman who'd gotten under his skin the way she did. No woman who had so many layers. She trusted him and in some way had grown attached. He wasn't blind- she wouldn't have ridden with him in the ambulance, or invited (ordered) him into her home when he was threatened. She wouldn't have opened the door to him now, wouldn't have offered him wine or spilled her secrets if she didn't care about him. He often teased Kensi about her obvious attraction to her partner; he never figured he'd find himself in the same position. Wanting his partner- that had the potential to get them both into a lot of trouble.

"You should go," she said softly but neither broke the magnetic eye lock they were trapped in. "I know how this ends."

He wanted to know if her lips were as soft as they looked. He wanted to make her let loose that laugh that he so rarely heard. He wanted to put an end to the pain in her eyes. "No," he replied. "You don't." His hand went around the back of her neck and he moved closer, lips touching tentatively, giving her the chance to move away. Instead her hand clutched the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He kissed her with more demand, and Angela met it just as eagerly. He grinned against her lips, finding her just as sensuously soft as he'd suspected.

Her grip on his shirt twisted and she pulled him closer. Demand, heat and need rolled up into the perfect distraction. He stood, lifting her from her seat and setting her down on the counter top, knocking over the empty wine bottle and sending a glass crashing to the floor. They were so wound up in one another that neither noticed.

She kissed him back hungrily, which set off a low moan in the back of his throat. Lips to lips, chest to chest. He tasted like the guiltiest of pleasures, one she had no intention of giving up soon. Needing him closer, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in. One hand pressed on the counter to keep her from being pushed back while the other clenched in his lengthy hair.

She burned spectacularly and the heat leapt from her and set him ablaze. He pulled out her elastic and her hair fell in waves. The scent of her vanilla and ylang-ylang shampoo bombarded his senses. His hand raked through her silky hair, something he'd craved to do for so long. Giving her hair a pull, she gasped, her mouth opened and their tongues met, her legs tightened around him. A moment gone to mindless indulgence that whipped them up into a fierce need.

Realizing her hands had snuck under his shirt, she paused and rested her forehead against his. "Mike," she whispered breathlessly. He waited, studied the confusion in her eyes. "Why are you here?"

He stayed quiet for a minute. Because Hetty told me to be? Because you're my partner? Because... "Because I'm not willing to lose you," he answered finally.

She stared at him, trying to decide if his words were the truth. Her lips returned to his with a slow, deep kiss that lasted only seconds and left him wanting more. "Then don't," she said simply. She looked down at the broken wine glass. "I should clean that." Despite the specific words spoken, they registered more as 'we need to stop this before we do something we both regret in the morning.' The fact that she could speak with all that double meaning and have him understand was remarkable.

"Yeah," he whispered, giving her space. He hadn't meant for it to go as far as it did, hadn't meant to kiss her in the first place. They worked together as partners but his position also made him her boss. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and turned to her. Swallowing hard, he watched her bend over and pick up glass. He cleared his throat. "You need to be on your best behaviour at work tomorrow."

She shot him a surprised look over her shoulder. "Yeah, I know."

"Hetty's going to be watching your ass." His eyes drifted, on their own accord, to Angela's piece of mentioned anatomy.

"Looks like someone else is, too," she said with an arrogant grin.

"You should do that more often," he commented as she stood up and tossed the broken fragments into the trashcan.

"Bend over?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at him.

"Smile," he said. It was such a simple word, but when another smile bloomed on her face, he just wanted to kiss her again.

::


	12. Chapter 12

Renko awoke in Angela's spare room. He had to force himself out of the warm and comfortable bed. One day, he hoped to achieve a good sleep in, when he didn't have a single thing to do the next day. He couldn't be bothered with his shirt and just pulled on the jeans from the night before. He checked the door, but, for once, she hadn't left a note there. He quickly used the washroom and walked out into the living room. A powerful, exotic scent hit him immediately.

He spotted Angela, who appeared to be meditating. She moved slowly, straightening one leg while the other stayed curled to her core. She bent over the extended leg, both hands reaching her foot.

"Yoga?" Renko said, rather surprised. He figured out where the scent came from, an incense burner. The stick burned slowly, grey smoke curling and swaying. Sugar watched it with great interest... or a contact high.

"Yes, yoga," she replied.

"And that?"

She lifted her head from where it had rested against her knee. "And what?" He pointed, and she followed the direction to the incense burner. "Patchouli. It's calming. I like it. Not a word."

"Your dog looks high."

Angela rolled her eyes as she sat up straight and planted both of her hands on the ground between her legs. "You can't get high on incense." She shifted forward as she pressed into the ground. Her bottom and legs rose away from the ground.

He watched her hold her body weight on her hands in an impressive arm balance. He found the display of strength incredibly alluring, and he leaned against the wall to watch her. "You didn't go out for a jog?"

"No." She let out a controlled breath while slowly lowering her body back to the floor. "Today was a yoga day."

An eyebrow raised. "A yoga day?"

"We got kicked off a case. Well, I got us kicked off the case," she amended as she stood. "I never did say I was sorry."

Renko shrugged. "What's done is done." Since she was pretending the kiss had never happened, he would follow her lead. Maybe it was best. He shouldn't have kissed her in the first place, but then again, she'd kissed him back. Not only that, but the sparks had practically been tangible. Now the real question was, who would break first?

::

They had driven to work in the Nova, Angela's choice. Renko knew she still worried about the threat. Side by side, they walked into the office. Faraday had donuts on his desk, which he pushed forward in offering. "Breakfast of Champions?"

"Thanks," Renko said, picking out one. Angela shook her head.

"Good to see you're back with us," Cooper said. Angela looked over her shoulder and spotted Cooper and Kimi walking into the office. "How are your ribs?"

"Fine," she responded. She really didn't care to admit her own weakness or the way they were aching. She preferred to think the ache had manifested because her morning workout. Better to have come from something productive than from someone kicking you when you're down. She stepped away from the group so she could drop her bag beside her desk.

"So, what do we have, Kimi?" Renko asked, his eyes turning toward their little technical operator.

Kimi shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "We've got a surveillance gig." She shrugged in a 'what-can-you-do-about-it' fashion. "The Director wants this man," she said as she pushed a few buttons on her tablet and an image and basic information came up on the display screen on the wall, "In our sights, at all times for as long as he is in the country."

Renko leaned back against his desk, a frown upon his face. Surveillance. Really? He huffed out a breath. "Alright, team, let's do it."

::

Three hours of sitting in a parked car sucked, no matter what the situation was. Cooper and Faraday pulled up and parked behind them. Angela rolled down her window as Cooper walked along the side of her vehicle. He shot her a grin as he leaned in. "G'afternoon. See anything?"

"He's inside," Angela said at the same time Renko told him, "It's a brothel."

"Oh, great, we get to watch out for an overly sexed foreign government official?" Cooper sighed and raked a hand through his unruly hair. "We'll take over. Next shift change at seventeen hundred?"

"Sounds good," Renko responded.

Angela turned over the engine of the Nova and rolled up the window manually. "Who took over the case?" she asked as she merged into the light traffic.

He didn't have to ask which 'case' she meant. The fact that there were still people out there who had his and Callen's information, who would use it to cause harm, put him on the defensive. The fact that he couldn't even be involved in the investigation, however, pissed him off. "That would be Agent Raynor's team." That soothed some ruffled feathers. Raynor had a zero bullshit tolerance, and once he bit his teeth into a case, he didn't let go. A good man to have in your corner, a good man to be investigating, when it was your ass on the line.

The car remained silent for a few minutes. Angela put on the brakes, and they waited behind a line of cars at a red light. "Have you been back to your place?"

She'd spoken softly, like she'd been afraid to bring it up. For some reason that warmed his heart. "No. Why bother?" He jerked a shoulder. "There's nothing left."

"I just thought, you know, that there might be something there," She, too, jerked a shoulder. "Something that helps us put these guys away."

He wanted to say that they were kicked off the case, but Angela knew that. Then again, so did he and that hadn't stopped him from requesting updates from Kimi. While he got no new information on the case, he did know that that the lawyer, Ross, would ensure that their link would walk.

"NCIS techs already combed the place," Renko replied. He stared out the window, watching the businesses and palm trees as they drove by.

"Yeah." Angela suddenly hit the blinker and switched lanes. "But none of them are as motivated as we are."

::

The complete destruction of his house left Renko feeling ill. His home. His things. While he didn't particularly care about material possessions and moved around a fair deal, this had been the place he'd gone to after a long day of work, a place where he should have been safe. This shook his confidence and shattered his sense of safety. He stepped over a board that might have once been part of his roof. Desperate for a distraction, he turned to Angela. "So, why did you stop being a negotiator?"

"Protection. I couldn't go back to the San Francisco PD. I gave up that life and who I once was to join Black Ops." Angela stuck close to him as they combed through what had once been the living room. "I have plenty of people who owe me, but no one with the power to keep my old agency at bay." Angela bent down to pick up a charred photograph. All that remained was a tiny bit of tree. She let it fall from her fingers and rejoin the ash. "Which is why I called in my favour from Lange." She noticed the raised eyebrow from Renko and sighed. "Hetty, my bad. Anyways, her position within NCIS would help. Besides the woman is a legend. She looks after her people. There aren't many like her, not many who would risk it all to get one agent back."

"Hetty's one of a kind." His mouth had gone dry and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The skeletal figure of his old couch. The ashes that were all that remained of the bookshelf he'd completed senior year of woodshop. Everywhere he looked came a new memory of a life he'd once had.

"You good?" Angela's hand felt warm against his cool skin.

"Yeah, fine." He could shed aliases with the best of them, but this chaos had touched his real home, his real life. His things were nothing but ashes, and all that remained were the faint echoes of memories.

She nodded. "Where's the bedroom?"

He looked over at his partner but couldn't even manage to make an inappropriate comment. Instead he pointed to the point of origin for the fire, and the two of them made their way carefully, stepping over fallen support beams and crunching glass beneath their feet.

A scorched metal bedframe and ashes. He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. If he had been asleep when the Molotov came through the window… he shuddered at the thought.

"You weren't here," she whispered, as if having read his mind. "The only thing in this house that was irreplaceable was you."

"I didn't think I'd care this much," Renko said. Of course, his partner was right. He didn't have a thing that couldn't be replaced; well, there were photos, mementoes, and keepsakes that he could never get back. He had to be grateful for what he did have, his life.

"You've experienced a big loss. You have the right to grieve," she said softly, touching his arm again.

He smiled just a little. "You're good."

"Excuse me?"

"Negotiations. I can see it now, why you were so good." He looked around the room sadly. "Personal connection, touch, soft voice."

She managed a little smile. "I was very good, so you're in safe hands with me." He smiled, too.

::

Renko and Angela relieved their teammates and settled in for another few hours of surveillance. They both had a coffee in hand and a box of Twinkies between them. His phone broke the silence. He answered it. "Renko."

"Hey, boss." Kimi's voice had an agitated edge to it. Renko put the phone on speaker. "I thought you would want to know that Ross just got Morden out of the boatshed."

Angela shook her head and Renko cursed. "How long ago?"

"Just now," Kimi responded. "Ross is also taking over for the state provided attorney for McKinney."

Angela slammed her hand against the steering wheel. "Find out who's footing the bill."

"Already did," Kimi responded. "It's Darren Wallace."

The partners exchanged annoyed glances. "Where is he?"

"Didn't show up for work," Kimi informed them. "He just dropped off the map."

"Anything else?" Renko asked.

"Sorry, Boss," Kimi responded sadly. "I'll keep digging."

::

Renko watched the plane take off at LAX. "And he's gone. Mission success. He did nothing. I kind of think Hetty just did this to keep us out of her hair," Renko said, leaning back on the hood of the Nova.

Angela sat with her back against the windshield as she looked to the sky. Her eyes followed the plane until it went over her head. "We need to rethink this," she said, patting the hood of the vehicle in invitation.

He sat down on the hood and swung his legs up. "What are you thinking?" Settled now with his back against the windshield, he turned to study the planes of her face. She wore a deeply contemplative look.

"Okay. Let's go back to the beginning." She shifted slightly so the wiper blades wouldn't dig into her back. "You and Agent Callen put away Darren Wallace. His son David then gets the responsibility of his critically ill mother; his fiancé leaves him; he works three jobs to pay for the medical bills. All of these are major pressure points. His life has de-railed; he has no time for himself, his wants, his needs; his entire life revolves around work and his ill mother."

He nodded and picked up the same train of thought. "And all the time he's getting angrier and angrier that this is the life he now has. The money Darren had been getting through his part in the terrorist activity was paying to keep his wife with a nurse. With him in prison, that income was gone and so was the nurse."

"So, she dies and David now has the time to dedicate to getting the two of you back," Angela said. "But…" She chewed her bottom lip and Renko gave her a minute. She stared off, deep in thought. The fog cleared from her eyes and they turned to him with steely precision. "Lawyers, especially ones with success rates like Ross's, don't come cheap. Where is he getting the money to protect his cousin and McKinney?"

Renko came up with a quick answer and didn't like it one bit. "The terrorist group. When they lost Darren Wallace, and with NCIS and Interpol working together to bring the group down, they scattered. What if they got back together again? Their values and their goal were disrupted."

"They, too, would blame you and Agent Callen," Angela whispered. She didn't like the line of thought they were currently following. "What better way to prove your intentions, to prove how serious you are, than to go head to head with two federal agents for revenge?"

Renko's head thumped back against the windshield. "If an entire terrorist group is behind them, then we're in a lot of trouble."


End file.
